Five Seconds Later
by evelynrose24601
Summary: A lot can change in five seconds. When Castiel reaches over to get something from his shotgun passenger Dean, he hits something in the road and their '67 Impala is flung upside down with Castiel, Dean, and his brother Sam still inside. Rated T for violence and heartbreak. You'll never be able to listen to "Stand By Me" the same way again!
1. Chapter 1: The Crash

Chapter One: The Crash

The dull purr of the '67 Impala's engines were the only thing that dared to interrupt the peaceful silence of the night as it drove along the highway, two of its three passengers fast asleep. The car's headlights were white against the darkness, casting ominous shadows across the pavement below as it passed.

"Dean?" One of the aforementioned sleeping passengers, who had been curled up in the front seat, opened his eyes blearily. "Where are we?"

"Fifteen miles south of Kansas City," muttered the driver, setting his jaw sternly. An open and half empty bottle of beer was stowed away in the side of his door, the cap long lost beneath the seats of the Impala. The amulets and charms hung from the rear-view mirror swayed in tune with the engine as it continued to purr.

"Do you want to switch?" The man who had just woken up stretched his arms above his head, the long sleeves of his trench coat slipping down to his elbows. There was a moment of hesitation as Dean eyed his open bottle of beer and then focused back on the road. He tapped the brakes, and the car began to mutter as it slowed, cursing its driver.

"Sure." Dean pulled over to the shoulder of the road and parked the Impala, waiting for a moment before opening his door. The night was cool and calm, and there was something comforting in the quiet darkness.

"Cas?" Dean whispered, lowering his voice as he rested his hand against the door handle. The other man nodded sleepily in response, rubbing his eyes. "Is Sam asleep?"

Cas glanced back at the other man, Sam, who was passed out on the leather seats in the back. He gave a slight nod, and turned to Dean. "Yes. Why?"

"There's something I have to tell you." Dean rubbed the edge of his jaw, his calloused hands oblivious to the unshaven stubble on his chin. He grabbed the bottle of beer from the side door and finally pulled the handle. "Let's switch seats first."

"Okay." Cas nodded passively, straightening his trench coat as he got out of the car. The two of them swapped seats, and Dean took a swig of his beer as soon as he was settled. The last dregs of it fell against his red plaid shirt, but they quickly faded into the fabric.

"I just wanted to say-" Dean began as the Impala rumbled back to life, shifting into gear and revving down the stretch of highway in front of them. Cas relaxed into the front seat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the distant, dulled tune of Bon Jovi on the car radio.

When a moment too many passed without warning, Cas glanced over at Dean, his angelic blue eyes sparkling in the darkness. "What were you saying?" he gently invited his friend, leaning his head back and rolling down the edge of his window so that a sharp gust of wind swept into the car and ruffled his almond-brown hair.

"I was saying—" Dean took another beer out of a cooler stashed next to the sleeping body of his brother, Sam, and popped off the cap with a deft motion. "I have to tell you something." He gazed off into the distance outside the car window, and Cas rolled his back up to keep the wind from waking Sam.

"What is it?" Cas replied patiently, a small smile creasing the edge of his lips. He was thankful that he had woken when he did – there was undoubtedly more empty bottles hidden in the backseat.

"I love you." Dean rubbed his face again, misty-eyed in his stupor. The small smile gradually grew, until Cas' face was entirely taken by joy.

"In a brotherly way, of course." Cas murmured apprehensively, patting Dean's arm with his free hand. In a surprise movement, Dean snatched up Cas' hand and held it, interlacing their fingers together.

"No." Dean took a long chug from the bottle. When he finished, he wiped his mouth shakily and gazed over at Cas. "You-you don't understand. I love you. Like really, really love you."

"You said this, just last month. We agreed it was on familial terms." Cas pulled his hand away and rested it against the steering wheel, confused. He knitted his eyebrows together and settled back in his seat silently.

"I said it wrong, it didn't... it didn't..." Dean groaned, rubbing his forehead. It was as though with each passing minute he became more intoxicated. Cas resisted the urge to snatch the rest of the bottle away, knowing very well that Dean would just grab another from the cooler.

"We can talk about it in the morning." Cas frowned, casting one last glance at the bottle. It would be so easy to snatch it away and have the real Dean back, the one that he had grown to love in his own way. He weighed the consequences, tilting his head back against the seat. After a moment, he took the risk - without any forewarning, he reached for the bottle. Dean was still holding it, but his eyes were half closed in his state of drunkenness and he was paying no attention. Cas couldn't just grab for the beer, in case Dean came to, so instead he turned toward his friend and focused on trying to sneak it away, oblivious to the road. It was only five seconds. What he didn't know was how much could change in that span of time.

The car kept going for a heartbeat the way it was supposed to, straight and fast down the narrow and otherwise empty stretch of highway. What an observant driver may have swerved around, the Impala inevitably hit. A man was standing silently in the heart of the road, his gaze was calm and he watched the oncoming car. Cas saw none of this until the car flipped. It only did so once, landing upside down on the cement and skidding several yards before grinding to a sickening stop. The road was once again silent, and the headlights of the Impala flickered out, leaving the dark to suffocate its visitors.


	2. Chapter 2: The Creature

Chapter Two: The Creature

A low, guttural growling came from outside the overturned and completely wrecked Impala. Cas took a deep breath, feeling a terrible ache in his lungs as he did this. It was a sharp pain that dulled to a pulsing, quiet wound when he exhaled. He instinctively reached for his chest to feel for something that may have impaled him, but there was nothing – just the pain as it persisted with each breath.

The growling from outside turned into ragged moans, and it was growing louder. Cas moved his only free arm to unbuckle himself, noting that the other was pinned to the side of the door by his mangled seat. He pulled himself as free as he could, pleased to feel a lack of pain as his arm was loosed from its captivity. He had nearly forgot about Dean and Sam, who had been quiet until now. Sam stirred in the backseat with a pained groan.

"Dean, what-" he blinked, glancing over at Cas in a dazed, surprised state. "Why were you driving, Cas?"

"Your brother was intoxicated." Cas shifted himself out of his seat and carefully maneuvered his body until he was on the roof of the Impala, which now served as the floor. Sam grimaced, as he was much too tall and gangly to try and attempt something like that. His face was already turning red as a result of being upside-down for so long.

The groaning erupted from outside again as something – or someone – banged on the exterior of the Impala. There was a rough scraping noise, and Sam winced, unbuckling himself. He fell against the roof of the car, attempting to contort himself into a proper position.

"Something tells me we've got to go." Sam twisted himself around once he had landed to remain upright. "Is Dean okay?"

"I haven't checked." Cas tilted his head slightly at Dean's silent figure. "Dean?" Only silence greeted him.

"Let's go. We need to salvage everything out of the trunk that we can." Sam opened the cooler, which miraculously had not spilled out its contents. Inside were three of the twelve original bottles of Dean's beer.

"Nothing good in here." Sam glanced up at Cas, his eyes worried. "Get Dean out. I'll get out and see what's making that noise."

"Agreed." Cas gave a slight nod and waited until Sam had left the Impala to free Dean, who was still buckled in upside-down. Cas checked for a pulse, and was relieved to find one amid the blood that was pooling on Dean's head and slowing trickling downward. With a surprising feat of strength, Cas managed to free Dean, who slumped lifelessly into his arms. Many muttered curses later, Cas managed to drag him outside the Impala's nearest shattered window.

"Cas, watch out!" Sam yelled, and Cas looked up just in time to avoid being crushed by some humanoid creature that Sam had been wrestling. It was stumbling backwards in a dumbfounded sort of way, its face contorted into a grisly expression. In the darkness, it was difficult to see, but the stench of its body was enough to alert Cas to its location. It collided with the Impala and collapsed against the side of the car, still growling. Sam brandished the weapon he was carrying, towering tall above both the overturned car and creature.

"I've already tapped it with salt and the handle of this knife is iron." Sam watched the creature warily as he flipped the knife over in his hand. "The blade itself is silver. If this was anything we've seen before, it'd be dead by now. I've stabbed its heart and its lungs."

"Try its head." Cas stood and heaved Dean into an upright position, attempting to balance the mass of a man on his left shoulder. The pain in his lungs appeared again most inopportunely, and he coughed, which aggravated the agony.

Sam obliged and knelt by the growling creature, which clacked its teeth at him and impulsively reached out a pair of what appeared to be rotting arms to grasp at him. Sam quickly stabbed it in the skull and almost immediately, the creature lay still.

"I think... I think it worked." Sam frowned, rubbing the blade of the knife on his jeans. "How is Dean?"

"He hasn't responded to me yet." Cas adjusted Dean onto his back, realizing that Dean had no ability to support himself, even with help. "What do we do now?"

"We can turn the Impala back over, maybe. Stay in it for the night." Sam rubbed his chin worriedly. He looked exhausted. Dark circles were drawn under his hazel eyes, but the long brown hair that framed his face worked well to hide them. "The last town we passed wasn't for miles. With whatever _that_ was around and Dean the way he is, I don't think we can walk back... at least until he's conscious."

"Can we call the authorities?" Cas asked, feeling Dean's ragged breath against his ear.

"And tell them what?" Sam narrowed his eyes, glancing at the broken shards of Dean's empty bottles on the pavement. "We're on grounds for arrest with these bottles. We can try to walk a ways and then call in the morning to get help for Dean at least, but it'll be obvious the car was ours. Plus, Dean would be pissed if we saved his life but left his Baby behind."

"True." Cas frowned. He heard a rustling from behind him and shuddered. "Let's try to flip the Impala over then. We can wheel it off the road."

"No, we can't," Sam stepped back to look at the vehicle and ran an anxious hand through his hair. "We really can't. See how it's crushed there?" He indicated the front of the vehicle, where the windshield had caved in. "There's no way that's safe to sleep in."

"Neither are the woods." Cas took a shaky, painful breath as his lungs throbbed. "But I suppose the shelter of trees is better than nothing. Let's at least get the tools out of the car."

"You take Dean past that line of trees over there." Sam nodded just past where the Impala's skid marks began. "Travel for five minutes straight. I'll meet you there after I get what we need."

"Okay." Cas took another staggering breath, wincing with the pain. "See you there."


	3. Chapter 3: The Choice

Chapter Three: The Choice

Five painful minutes later, Cas managed to get both his injured self and the lifeless figure of his friend over to the side of the road. He was heaving for every breath, pain snaking its way into every region of his chest as he struggled. Growling erupted from down the pavement, but Cas could barely turn his head to look and see what it was. Arduously, he helped Dean to the ground and positioned him comfortably against a somber oak tree. Though Sam had asked more of Cas, he had no ability to continue further without collapsing from the torturous ache in his chest.

Cas sat next to his friend quietly, listening to the growling grow louder as the creature approached. From his vantage point, he observed that Sam was still struggling to move the Impala back onto its four wheels in order to access its store of weapons in the trunk. Cas tilted his head slightly, mulling over his options. He could sit with Dean like Sam had asked, or go help and get the weapons they needed. He studied Dean, who stirred slightly in his state of unconsciousness. It was in this state of wondering that he heard Sam shouting something he couldn't quite make out. The growling from before turned into fierce snarls, and Cas stood, his eyebrows furrowed in indecision. He cast a final glance toward Dean, who looked so peaceful against the tree, and ran out into the deserted highway.

By the time Cas reached the Impala, Sam was wrestling away a creature who looked much like the lifeless one they had only just defeated. It snapped its bloody teeth at Sam, who was struggling to slash at its head. Cas broke into a run, his tawny trench coat billowing devotedly in the air behind him.

"Sam, duck!" Cas shouted, quickly searching himself for a weapon. He must have left his knife with Dean, but thankfully, his revolver was stashed in his trench coat pocket. Without further hesitation, he pointed it at the creature and pulled the trigger. A moment later, blood splashed against Sam's shirt and began oozing from the creature's mangled head as it went limp.

"Sam, forget the car." Cas narrowed his eyes, sliding the gun back in his pocket. "We need to help Dean."

"We can't help him if we're unarmed." Sam took a quick glance around the area, tensing as a nearby branch snapped. "Hurry – help me move this thing."

Cas gingerly stepped around the dead creature and nearly collided with the lifeless one from earlier as he moved toward the Impala. Sam put his hands against the side of the car, groaning as he tried to push it upright.

"Go! Now!" Sam shoved the door of the car and Cas helped to push, pausing to move his sleeves higher up so they would not interfere. It took a few minutes, but eventually, the two men managed to put the car back onto its four wheels. The entire roof was now caved in, dented in a hundred different places. Half of the windows were blown out and shattered all over the pavement, and two of the doors appeared to be stuck in place. The trunk seemed relatively unharmed, aside from the occasional dent and scrape.

Sam tried to open it and they must have been due a good moment, because it opened without much effort. Inside was a vast collection of different knives, swords, and rifles that Sam scooped up deftly, as though he was used to cleaning it out in a hurry. He motioned to Cas to help, who was rubbing a hand fervently over his chest in a futile effort to relieve the pain in his lungs. It had only intensified, and he felt as though he would soon be unable to breathe. Sam noted this and passed Cas a light assortment of rosaries, holy water vials, and two packs of bullets.

"Head over to Dean." Sam turned back to the trunk, even though his arms were already full. "He needs you more than I do."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Cas drew a staggering breath, balancing the objects in his arms precariously.

"I heard what he said to you." Sam was still surveying the trunk, occasionally grabbing another weapon to add to the duffel bag he was now filling. "It's fine he said it - I knew already."

"You knew?" Cas frowned. "Was I the only one that didn't?"

"Can't you read people's minds?" Sam evaded the question by cracking a wry, but sad smile. "Use your angel powers for once."

"I-" Cas fumbled with one of the rosaries in his hands, uncomfortable. "I don't abuse my powers, Sam. I would never read his mind." He added, in a lowered voice: "Every time I've tried, he just shuts me out."

Sam shot Cas a knowing look in reply, and Cas stepped away indignantly. "Fine," he huffed, flustered. "I'll head back."

After another bout of extended silence, Cas stormed away, his arms full of goods and his mind full of Dean.


	4. Chapter 4: The Apocalypse

Chapter Four: The Apocalypse

When Cas returned, his lungs still in immense pain, Dean was sitting up against the tree where he had been left. In his hand was the knife that Cas had left behind earlier, and his forehead was beginning to sport a blossoming bruise beneath the drying blood.

"Hey." Dean glanced up when Cas entered his line of sight, looking away soon after as he fiddled with the knife. Cas tried to tune into Dean's thoughts, which was easy, given the man's intoxicated state. It appeared that Dean was picturing Cas back in the Impala, a warm, heavenly glow radiating around the angel's body as they talked. Little holographic hearts buzzed around the car, discarding themselves on a sleeping Sam once they were done with their rotation.

"Cas?"

Cas glanced back at Dean, tugging at the tie around his neck in an anxious fashion.

"What happened?" Dean's thoughts turned bright red, as did Cas' face. He snapped out of Dean's mind just as quickly as he had entered, to avoid letting him notice.

"Well, we switched so I could drive and..." Cas looked down, focusing on the ground to avoid looking Dean in the eyes. "I mean, I wasn't... I didn't... okay... well, I kind of crashed the car..."

"WHAT?" Dean's eyes began to water, and the usually stoic man sat back against the tree, his fists clenched with rage around the knife he was holding. There was a brief moment of agonizing silence before he whispered, "Is she okay?"

"The car?" Cas tried to read into Dean's thoughts again, but it was impossible - now he was being blocked off. "Uh, yeah. Definitely."

" _Liar_." Dean said, his face red with anger. "Let me see her."

"We can't get over there right now." Cas tucked his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and shrugged absentmindedly. "You can't walk anyway."

"Sure I can." Dean was still reclined in his basic sitting position as he said this, his head resting against the bark of the tree.

"I wouldn't like to test that theory." Cas frowned, suddenly hearing a branch snap behind him. He whipped around, the gun immediately drawn from his pocket, but it was only Sam. He looked wearied - there was a scratch on his face below his cheekbone and it was bleeding profusely, and he was limping.

"How is everyone doing?" Sam set the duffel bag that had been looped around his shoulders against the ground and crouched next to Dean, surveying his brother's wounds. "Not too bad, I hope."

"I can't breathe properly, but I suppose in the grand scheme of things, that's not so bad." Cas took another breath, this one shallow, but it hurt as bad as a deeper one he had taken ten minutes ago. "I also have multiple abrasions on my face and arms."

"I-" Dean scratched his head, and drew his hand away with blood from the wound. "I don't know."

Sam sighed, standing and walking over to Cas. "How many bottles did he have?" he asked, checking the ammo inside of the rifle he was carrying.

"I'm not sure." Cas glanced at Dean, looking him up and down. "More than enough. There weren't many bottles left in the cooler. I'm surprised we didn't crash until I took the wheel."

"I'm not." Sam checked his watch, then glanced back at Cas. "There's probably about-"

The growling from the creatures before sounded, this time from just behind them. Cas turned readily, but Sam was slower in his reaction, fumbling with his rifle. One of those beasts was there, stumbling toward them in the dark with one severed arm and its head nearly torn off by some prior show of force. It reeked of death and rot, filling the small clearing with its stench.

"Sam, watch out!" Cas stepped forward and slashed at the creature, which clacked its teeth menacingly and attempted to bite him. He deftly pierced its skull and stepped back as soon as it had slumped to the ground.

"What the heck are these things?" Sam set the duffel bag down and grabbed the monster's left leg, preparing to drag it away. As he pulled on it, the leg tore away, leaving behind a bloody mess.

"Are they any kind of creature we know?" Cas awkwardly rubbed his knife against the denim of his jeans.

"I mean..." Sam knelt by the fallen beast, surveying it. "Look at this. Its flesh is rotten, so it's obviously dead... and its leg tore off so easily..."

"A zombie, maybe?" Dean suggested drunkenly from behind them, stabbing the knife he was holding into the earth beside his leg.

"He has a point." Cas admitted, crossing back to the other side of the clearing to snatch the knife away. "But three in one night?"

"We killed one a while back by burying it in its own grave, but these ones are killed by bullets to the head. It's not any zombie I know." Sam murmured, unzipping the duffel bag and beginning to sort through it for ammo to refill his rifle with.

"We'll make plans tomorrow morning - for tonight, we need to sleep." Cas decided, sheathing the knife that Dean had been messing around with and giving the clearing one last survey. "I'll stay on guard for the first shift, if you would like."

"That'd be great, Cas." Sam nodded in appreciation and closed up the duffel bag before making his way over to a nearby tree and propping himself up against it. He laid his rifle against his chest and leaned back, closing his eyes.

"Goodnight, Sam." Cas called out, moving to stand between the two men so he could keep them safe while they slept.

"Goodnight, Cas."


	5. Chapter 5: The Strategy

Chapter Five: The Strategy

Cas sat up, his heart hammering away in his chest. The sun had only just risen over the horizon, spreading its colorful rays to shine in shafts between the leaves and branches of the wooded canopy above him and the two brothers.

Dean was already awake, muttering various curses under his breath in his hungover state and sharpening a nearby branch with his pocketknife to use as an emergency stake. Sam was still asleep, his head comfortable on a nearby pile of fallen autumn leaves.

Cas drew a sharp breath, one that hurt like hell, and grasped at his chest unconsciously. The pain was blinding for a moment, and he tapped his chest, hoping that he had enough strength left to could heal himself. It was only a second before his lungs were healed, whatever had been maiming them suddenly - and thankfully - gone.

He felt the grace inside of him waning - he didn't have many uses of his angel " _mojo_ " as Dean and Sam often called it, left. It was dangerous out here in the woods, and he knew might need it later. He tilted his head, wondering. It would be best to use it for lethal injuries - and deaths, naturally. He brushed off his trench coat, which, amid newfound wrinkles, sported a various array of pine needles and fragments of dead leaves.

"Dean?" Cas stood, grimacing as more dirt fell from his coat, and tapped his friend's shoulder. "How are you-"

"Shut up." Dean set down the spear he had been fashioning, his eyes cast down and away from Cas. "I don't want to talk about it. _Any_ of it."

"I'm sorry... about everything." Cas ignored Dean's request and came to kneel beside him. "The Impala, especially. I can use some of my grace to repair it..."

"That's not what I was referring to, but okay." Dean refused to look at Cas, his shoulders tense with frustration.

"Oh." Clueless, Cas moved a fraction of space away, hoping to relieve some of the tension that was building up in his presence. "Me taking the beer, you mean. I didn't intend to make you think I was being too 'motherly' again, Dean, but-"

"Not that either." Dean impaled the nearby earth with his crude spear as though he had a vendetta against it, twisting the branch further into the dirt. "You know what I'm talking about."

"You mean... what you said in the car?" Cas approached the subject cautiously, unsure if he was wrong again. "I just assumed-"

"You assumed what?" Dean narrowed his eyes and drove the stake so deep, the entirety of the stick became submerged inside the dirt.

"That you didn't mean it." Cas bit his lower lip, the tension becoming unbearable. "Because you didn't."

"I say shit when I'm drunk, Cas." Dean glared into the distance, at everything and nothing at the same time. "Some people don't mean it. I always do. I have _done_ stuff I regret while intoxicated, but I never _said_ anything I didn't mean."

"So, you're saying..." Cas tried to swallow, but his throat had suddenly become much too dry. "You _love_ me?"

"Yeah." Dean's voice was low, hardly palpable as a breeze wafted by and swept his words away with it as it passed. A minute or so must have gone by without any speaking - the woods were silent around them, as though respecting the escalating pressure.

"I don't know what to say." Cas cleared his throat, recognizing again how parched it was.

"That you love me too?" Dean started, and then he stopped. He shrank back, like he always did when he felt emotion bubbling too close to the surface. "Sorry, I'm still hungover, I didn't-"

Cas leaned forward, finally catching Dean's gaze. He held it for a moment, studying those green eyes that shone like they were from a fairytale. He saw those freckles, uncharted constellations of wonder. He closed in the space between them without a second thought, tasting those lips with a fierce curiosity.

They broke apart after a moment, and Dean stared back at Cas, his eyes wide in a warm, but surprised expression. "Cas, I-"

"Good morning guys." Sam yawned, the leaves rustling under his weight as he turned to face them. They were already apart, but Dean instinctively shrank away, his hands retreating into his pockets and his eyes growing cold once again. The familiar lines of worry appeared at their edges.

"Morning, Sam." Dean stood, shuffling his boot to cover the stake from earlier with upturned soil. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap." Sam grimaced, favoring his right leg. "I'm not sure if this is sprained or broken."

"Probably broken, with our luck." Dean ran a hand through his hair, taking care to avoid Cas' gaze. "We'll have to head toward the nearest hospital."

"If we've seen three of these creatures in the last twelve hours, I can't imagine that the hospital is a very safe place right now." Sam said, limping over to the duffel bag and looping it over his shoulder. "We need to gather up everyone we know and try to get to safety, just in case this is some kind of epidemic."

"I can heal you both when we get to wherever we're going, but not until after I fix the car." Cas suggested, standing so that his arm brushed against Dean's. Sam noted this, and Dean hesitated, tense, but did not move away.

"Any news from Heaven, Cas?" Sam inquired, moving toward the edge of the clearing.

"Not that I've heard of." Cas flexed his right arm and allowed his angel blade to slide effortlessly into his hand. There was no telling what they might encounter on the way to the Impala.

"It can't be too bad." Dean assured his brother, cracking a smile. "Even if it is, it's nothing we can't handle."

"I'm sure." Sam sighed, glancing behind him to make sure that Dean and Cas were following. "I've just got a bad feeling about this one."


	6. Chapter 6: The Bunker

Chapter Six: The Bunker

"Dean!"

A lithe, beautiful young woman ran up the gravel drive, embracing Dean in her arms. There were tears welling in her eyes as she kissed his cheek, smiling through all the emotion.

"I was so worried you guys wouldn't make it." She stepped back, tucking a strand of her bright red hair behind one ear. "We've been camping outside the bunker for days - everyone came as soon as they heard."

"It's only been five days since we called." Dean smiled, giving her a peck on the cheek. "I missed you. All of us have."

"It's good to see you again, Charlie." Cas patted the girl's shoulder, stepping back to give Dean the space he adamantly desired. "How long has it been since the last case?"

"You mean with those crazy Frankenstein brothers?" Charlie laughed, her cheeks rosy. "A year, maybe more. I've hunted with the Winchesters since, but it's been a while."

She lowered her voice and glanced at the makeshift tents set up around the various vehicles parked in the driveway outside the Winchester's bunker. "Is your friend Meg available, by the way? She's totally cute."

"Available, yes. Demonic, definitely." Dean smirked, giving Charlie one final hug. "You ought to wait a little longer into the apocalypse before scouting out a partner."

"It's never too early." Charlie crossed her arms with feigned indignance and walked away, waving over to some of the people gathered by the cars. Kevin was propped up in the shade under a nearby tree, focused on the book he was reading with a fierce intensity. Garth was chatting away with Bobby, who was going over the various ways to kill and maim these newfound enemies. Ellen was sitting next to them, smiling at something Bobby was saying, and Jo was sitting by herself, observing Dean and Cas from a distance.

"Dean, should we unlock the bunker?" Cas adjusted his trench coat, uncomfortable. He was acutely aware of every movement that Dean was making beside him.

"Sam can." Dean waved toward Bobby, who nodded toward him. "You and I are going on a run."

Dean drove for a long time. It was probably an hour before the Impala was parked in the empty and disheveled lot of a local Gas N' Sip. Dean pulled the key from the ignition and stared out the windshield for a moment in silence.

"Why are we out here, Dean?" Cas crossed his arms, the silence between them well past the point of excruciating. They hadn't exchanged a single word since they had gotten in the car.

"Like I said." Dean pocketed the keys with a rough ferocity and huffed as he got out of the car, smoothing down the creases in his leather jacket. "We're on a run."

"A run... from what?" Cas also stepped out of the car, masquerading as a man with a reason. He took a deep breath, the dust from the road filtering uncomfortably into his lungs.

"Not _from_ anything." Dean walked right up to the door of the store, glanced inside, and shot a hole right through the upper pane. The whole thing shattered, leaving a mass of shards around his boots. " _To_ something. Food, supplies - whatever you can think of that we need."

Cas stepped around the glass and peered inside the dark building. The lights were blown out, though by what was the mystery. No one occupied the place, and it had already been swept through. There was still plenty of food lying around that was filled with so many preservatives, it would long outlast the apocalypse. Perhaps _apocalypse_ seemed too dramatic for the sighting of three strange creatures on one night out with the Winchesters, but the radio had been telling the world a different story.

"Grab all you can." Dean said, stalking off toward the area of the refrigerator section that contained the beer he had come for. "We'll take trips to get as much as we can in the back of the Impala."

"Dean." Cas shuffled through the door, taking care to lift his leather shoes over the sharper shards. "We need to talk about earlier."

"There's nothing to say." Dean gave the shelf he was passing a cursory glance. His arm stretched out in a heartbeat and once withdrawn, was revealed to have grabbed a slice of aged (but immortal) pie in a plastic case. "Unless you had something to say."

"I do." Cas roamed around listlessly for a moment, unable to think of what would be something a human would like to eat. Angels never really got... hungry. That was a mortal lust.

"Go on with it." Dean ducked his head and continued toward the beer. There was still a case or so on the top shelf of the fridge, and it seemed he was intent on retrieving it.

"Did you mean what you said?" Cas began piling in his arms all sorts of things, ones he knew he had seen the boys eat from time to time when he had been lucky enough to hunt with them on a case.

"I always mean what I say." Dean opened the fridge and coughed as the smell of sour food that had been put there in futility to keep them fresh wafted toward him.

"So... you love me?"

"I said let's not talk about this." Dean coughed again, standing on the tips of his toes to reach the upper shelf. Once he had retrieved his prize, he came toward Cas slowly, surveying the shelves as he went.

"You said I could if I had something to say and I do." Cas corrected him, grabbing a nearby cart and loading it with all of the food he was gathering. He had already run out of room in his arms and pockets. "If you wish to tell me something like that, you can't pretend nothing happened. Not after... the kiss."

"I said-" Dean paused, setting his free hand on a shelf to steady himself. He looked as though he was going to be sick. "To drop it."

"Did you feel... anything?"

"I-" Dean stood upright, squaring his shoulders and looking at Cas. He was about two yards away now, still mid-aisle. He held a case of beer in one hand and the pie in the other, pockets stuffed with slightly dented cans and various packaged candies. "Decline to comment."

"That's the same thing." Cas tilted his head, confused. "You were the one who taught me that."

"It's not me." Dean came closer with a tentative spring to his step, as though he was prey trying to tiptoe its way around a predator. "I'm not... I'm not me when I'm around you... in that way."

"That makes no sense." Cas allowed himself to crack a mild smile as he carefully set a bag of chips into the basket.

"What I mean to say is-" Dean flipped one of the caps off of the beer nearest to him and took a swig, but appeared to find it difficult to swallow. "When we were... doing _that_..."

"Kissing?"

"Yeah." Dean narrowed his eyes, lost in thought. " _That_." He shook his head, clearing his muddled thoughts. "When we were doing that, it didn't feel like it was me doing it."

"I can assure you that there was no demon possessing you, Dean." Cas allowed his smile to get a little wider and begin creasing the edges of his cheeks into dimples.

"I know that, it's just-" Dean took another sip of the beer he was holding. "That wasn't something I would have done."

"Well, you did." Cas took a step toward Dean with such caution, it was as though he was worried he might break the ground beneath him. "Would you ever do it again?"

Dean rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand after he set the case of beer in the cart. He was inches from Cas now, who stood just to his right.

"No." Dean set down the pie as well, and turned so that he could face Cas. Cas could feel the heat radiating off of Dean's body, the soft and homey smell of his leather jacket; he could see each freckle that graced the man's chiseled cheeks, every sparkle in his bright green eyes. He tilted his head as he always did when he was met with something he was curious of how to handle, and Dean paused, as though at once reluctant and terrified.

There was a long silence strung between the two men, and Cas closed his eyes. He did it without desire to be provocative – tension made him uncomfortable, and he had to end the fervent staring that had been going down. He was about to take a step back and finish sweeping through the store when a pair of lips collided with his own. At first he froze, but then he melted against Dean and the two of them became one.


	7. Chapter 7: The Song

Chapter Seven: The Song

The drive back was quiet. This time, Dean put on a mixed tape he must have made a while ago and was quietly singing " _Stand By Me_ " under his breath for the duration of the ride, only because he thought Cas was dozing. Cas enjoyed hearing Dean sing, especially a song as soft and sweet as that. He leaned his head against the window and stared out of it, pretending to be asleep so that Dean would keep singing.

It was intensely luminous inside the bunker – there was almost more brightness than outside. Cas took his time wobbling down the staircase to get to the main room, his arms full of goods. Kevin and Garth were sitting at the dining table, a static radio buzzing in front of them.

"It's not just here, then." Kevin leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily, distraught. "These creatures have spread all over the world."

"Your mom is going to be okay." Garth patted Kevin's shoulder in the most reassuring way he could, seeming to somehow resist the urge to give him a hug.

"She's dead already." Kevin's eyes were filling with tears, and he switched off the radio. "It's been nothing but silence for two months. I should have stayed home. That's where she'll go, if she gets back."

"It's more important that you're safe." Garth withdrew his hand and messed with the radio for a second, trying to get a better signal.

Cas walked by the two of them, who were so engrossed in their conversation they didn't bother to say hello. He stepped down another flight of stairs and turned into the kitchen, spreading the cans and packages all over the counters. Dean came in just then, somehow having managed to bring more with him. He brushed against Cas accidentally, but was unapologetic.

"Can we-" Cas set down the last can from his arms. "Can we talk about earlier?"

"We already tried that." Dean winced as one of the bags of chips fell onto the kitchen tile with a loud crunching noise. "You see how that turned out?"

"I wouldn't mind it turning out the same way." Cas listened for a moment, making sure no one was coming. Dean mumbled something in reply, but it was inaudible.

"What did you say?" Cas asked, setting a cereal box into one of the cabinets.

"I said-" Dean cleared his throat as he opened the fridge and slid in some of the beer he had gotten for Bobby. "Never mind."

"Just tell me."

"I _said_ I wouldn't mind it turning out the same way either."

Cas was silent for a moment, not knowing what would be best to say, and this hushed state was only broken by Dean humming. The melody was familiar, and Cas tried to place it. It was only when Dean began to sing, his voice gravelly and imperfectly perfect, that Cas recognized it.

 _"When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we'll see – no, I won't be afraid, no, I won't be afraid, just as long as you stand, stand by me. And darlin', darlin' stand by me, oh now stand by me."_

Cas was reluctant at first to join in – he knew from his days in Heaven, when he had tried out for the angel choir and been rejected, that he was a terrible singer. It might not seem so bad if you were under the impression that the choir was entirely exclusive, but he was the first rejection. Still, he worried that Dean would stop, so with that thought, he began.

 _"If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall, and the mountains should crumble to the sea,"_ Cas mumbled, uncomfortable. There was an awkward bout of silence for a moment until Dean turned and shot him a glance, accompanied by a rare smile that made the discomfort worth it.

Together, they finished out the part, their voices intertwining like some awful, off-tune, yet equally meaningful symphony. The complete lack of singing talent of one didn't bother the other in the least. Cas lost himself in the song, closing his eyes and leaning back against the counter as the two of them sang.

 _"I won't cry, I won't cry – no, I won't shed a tear... just as long as you stand, stand by me."_


	8. Chapter 8: The Virus

Chapter Eight: The Virus

"It's everywhere."

Sam stood up, letting his chair fall back against the floor. All who were there at dinner were ripped from their conversations by his interruption and began to listen.

"The virus is everywhere in the world. It started in China, then spread throughout Asia without being detected. It came to America and it was noticed, but deemed harmless. After it spread to South America, Europe, and Africa, patients began exhibiting severe symptoms."

"Like?" Bobby asked incredulously, pulling his hat from its resting place on the table and putting it back on his head.

"The ill began to crave eating human flesh." Sam paused, reading from the paper in his hand. "This is from a research study last month I got from the CDC website. Their organs began to fail and they had extremely high amounts of fever and nausea. They began to inexplicably die at various rates, the shortest being in six hours and the longest, a week, after the symptoms began to be exhibited. Then came the strange part. Once they had died, it would take anywhere from five minutes to two full days for them to do what the CDC described as 'turn.' When this happened, the corpse would reanimate itself and attack any living person nearby with the intent to eat them."

"So... they're not our regular kind of zombies?" Dean queried from his nearby seat, mouth full of refried beans. Everyone else had sat there in shock, unable to process what was being told to them, while Dean had continued to eat his dinner. Cas shot him a look, which was returned with a knowing smile.

"No, but they're similar. The zombies we have encountered were dead people, but they had no infection or illness that had reanimated or killed them. They were brought back with a necromancy spell, did not wish to eat other people, and it was never on a scale such as this."

"What are we going to do about it?" Jo, who had been silent thus far, piped up. She smoothed back her long, blond hair so that it was out of her face.

"This isn't like any apocalypse that we've encountered." Sam folded up the paper and set it back on the table. "It's on such a large scale that even if we were to somehow terminate all of the infected in America, the rest of the world would still be dealing with it and we would be prone to infection."

"I say we try to survive." Dean took another scoop of the beans and began to chew them slowly. "We should go out and gather as many materials as we can now, after we make a list of what we need. We should get gas too. And bikes. Something tells me both will be in short supply soon."

"Are there any farms nearby?" Ellen asked with a frown. "Once this shit goes down, it might be nice to get some farm animals and seeds, to make our food supply less expendable."

"There's one about five miles out and another one about eight. It'd be worth the trip." Garth agreed, adjusting his cowboy hat. "I'll head out with you in the morning."

"Some of the stores have already been ransacked. There's only a few still open." Kevin reminded them. "It's been about a week, a week and a half, and half of the US population is infected or already turned. The other half are freaking out. All schools are closed, money is losing its value, etc. Everyone is in flight mode – we need to get as much as we can now. Bring money, in case the store is open and we need to pay."

"Tomorrow, Ellen and Garth can head out with Bobby to the farms and take back what they can. Is there a trailer we can hitch up to the truck?" Sam asked, looking around the table.

Bobby nodded, relaxed enough to begin eating again. "I saw an abandoned one down the road about a mile on my way back."

"Jo, you and I can head out tomorrow toward the east; Dean, you and Cas can go west." Sam sat down confidently, looking around the circle of people before him. "Kevin, Meg, and Charlie, you guys can stay and take inventory of what we have."

"I can come with you guys." Charlie crossed her arms disapprovingly. Sam shook his head, apologetic.

"Not this time, Charlie. You're needed here." He shot a knowing glance at Kevin who was already beginning to hyperventilate. Having severe anxiety didn't appear to be a valuable trait for surviving the apocalypse. He added under his breath, "Someone needs to protect Kevin." 

It was late when Cas heard his door open, but he wasn't sure of the time. It might have been midnight, it might have been 5 AM, but the clock on his bedside table wasn't functioning properly. The creaking of the door, however insignificant, rose him from his light slumber in a matter of moments. He was an angel – he never slept. Sometimes he closed his eyes and pretended as though he was dreaming, like he had when he was briefly human, but it was hard for him.

He sat upright, the pillows creasing and blankets rustling. In the light that shafted in from the open door stood the tall and defined shadow of Dean.

"What is it?" Cas moved to stand and reached for his trench coat, which was folded up on a chair beside the bed.

"I just wanted to talk." Dean came in without invitation and closed the door behind him. Cas switched on the bedside lamp, which cast an eerie glow around the room.

"About?" Cas sat at the edge of his bed, arm still suspended in midair to reach for his coat. He let himself relax.

"Us."

"Us?" Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as though he were tired. He was never truly tired – only wearied. "What about... _us_?"

"Is there or isn't there?" Dean continued to stand by the doorway, every inch of body language indicating his utter discomfort.

"Do you want there to be?" Cas adjusted the tie that was still knotted around the collar of his white business shirt.

"I mean..." Dean seemed to be finding it difficult to parse his words properly. "I- we... we can't be doing this _thing_ , where we just randomly make out or dance in the kitchen together or... it just needs to be all or nothing."

"I'd be okay with that." Cas smiled, sliding back beneath the covers. "Would you?"

"Yes." Dean turned and opened the door just a crack, pausing to take a breath. "I really would. But Sam and the others – especially Jo – won't get it. Just... let's not bring it up, okay?"

Cas nodded in agreement, and Dean waited one moment more before disappearing down the hallway.


	9. Chapter 9: The Lovebirds

Chapter Nine:

"For the last time Dean, you are not driving!" Cas argued crossly, righteously opening the door to the Impala and sliding in behind the wheel.

Dean began wrestling with Cas, laughing as he attempted to push the angel into the adjacent seat. Sam observed the two from behind, his eyes bright for so early in the morning.

"Knock it off, lovebirds," he grinned. "Let Cas do the driving this time around."

"We're not lovebirds." Dean grumbled, moving away and around the car to get into shotgun position. "Take it back."

"Whoa, okay." Sam frowned, shutting Cas' door. "No need to be so defensive! I'll see you guys tonight."

"See you then." Dean stared out of his window until Cas had started the car and actually driven it out the driveway and to the left.

"You don't need to be harsh with him." Cas offered, glancing at Dean's sullen face. "He will suspect something's up that way."

"I hear you." Dean muttered, switching the radio to some of his favorite classic rock songs. They drove for a while like that, the music playing louder than their thoughts. It was probably twenty minutes later that they reached a store worth looting. They had passed two neighborhoods in that time, but both men had agreed it was probably still too early in the days of infection to be raiding houses.

Cas parked the car carelessly over three spots, after deciding no one was in the store. He took the keys with him and once he had gotten out of the car, glanced warily at the gas station nearby. There was no one attending it, and it was possible that there would still be gas available.

"Come on, we've got to get moving." Dean slammed his car door and grabbed a stray shopping cart that had been abandoned in the parking lot. He wheeled it up against the door and slammed it as hard as he could to no avail. Cas grabbed a cart and followed suit, but his attempt proved no better. There were faint and distant growls that rumbled from inside the store, and Cas frowned.

"Are they attracted by sound or something?" he asked. Dean shrugged in an absentminded attempt at a reply. They kept trying the door until eventually, Dean had Cas step back and he shot down the glass panes. Once inside, Dean tossed Cas a flashlight and grinned.

"First one with a full cart wins!"

"Wait!" Cas widened his eyes. "We can't do that! There are some of those creatures in here, we just heard them!"

"We can handle ourselves, right?" Dean planted a soft, bristly kiss on Cas' cheek before the latter could process what was happening. "Good. See you here in five minutes."

He darted off toward an assortment of aisles and toppled shelves, leaving Cas hesitant in the shards of glass from the door. He sighed and began walking toward the back of the store, hoping that it wasn't yet raided.

It was a quiet and brisk trail that led to floors covered in dented cans and various useful items. Cas grabbed some duct tape he found lying around, as well as first-aid kits, empty gas tanks, buckets, towels, soaps, knives, and three brand-new generators that were still in the box. He grabbed a couple of lighters and candles as well, just in case. With all that in his cart, along with an assorted mix of preserved foods, he headed back toward the front of the store.

He must have been a minute into the walk back when he heard a snarl from behind him. With a nearly impossible set of reflexes, he unsheathed the knife from his belt and gripped it in his hand. When he turned, there stood one of the creatures, even more grotesque in the sunlight that was shining through the broken door frame. It had fresh blood dripping from between what once was a human grimace, and half of its head was torn off, leaving its rotting brain partially exposed.

"Dean!" Cas called in a panic, taking a futile slash at the creature. He heard an echo as various cans fell in the distance, and Dean said something, but it was muffled.

"MOVE!" cried out a voice from behind him, and he was roughly shoved to the side by a stranger with much more strength than he could ever have mustered. In half an instant, the creature lay dead in his midst, and he looked to see a young woman standing beside its rotting body. She had light brown hair that fell straight down her back in a motionless cascade, amber eyes that subtly searched every inch of his body to deem whether or not he was a threat.

"Who is Dean?" she asked harshly, taking the knife from the creature's listless skull and bringing it quickly to the base of Cas' neck. When he refused to answer, more in shock than stubbornness, she pressed it firmly against his skin.

"He's... he's my friend." Cas swallowed, acutely aware of the blade on his throat. "We came here together to look for food."

"Do you have a base?" the woman queried, tense and stoic in her interrogations. Cas was quiet until she pressed the blade deeper into his skin, one second of pressure away from bleeding.

"I can't answer that. I don't know you." Cas began to slowly reach for his knife that lay just inches away, but the woman noticed his movements and kicked it further away with a clatter.

"Well, let's get to know each other then. My name is Katharine Dixon." The woman moved from her crouched position and offered Cas a hand. He took it with much reluctance. "What's your name?"

"Castiel. Castiel Novak." Now standing, Cas cast a quick glance over to where Dean was supposed to be, but there was no movement in the darkness.

"I'm coming back with you." Katharine kept the gun out with her finger against its barrel, watching Cas warily. "Take me to Dean."


	10. Chapter 10: The Walkers

Chapter Ten: The Walkers

"Katharine Dixon." She stuck her hand out to a surprised and wary Dean, who hesitated a moment before decidedly shaking it. "And you are?"

"Dean Winchester." Dean glanced at Cas, narrowing his eyes. "Is this a friend of yours?"

"An acquaintance." Cas kept his knife in his hand, twisting the handle around against his palm.

"I'm coming back with you guys. I have a couple of friends with me. They'll be coming too." Katharine told them matter-of-factly, wiping a splatter of nearly-dried blood from her earlier kill. It turned into a bloody smudge as Cas and Dean stared at her in amazement.

"You can't just come with us." Dean protested, pulling his loaded cart away from her grasp. "Unless you can give us something in return."

"Loads of ammo. Enough clean water to let a small country drink for a week." Katharine cocked her head, giving Dean a slight smirk. "I'm guessing you're going to take me up on it?"

"I'm guessing I don't get a choice." Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest in irritation. "Go get your friends and bring the supplies. Cas, keep an eye on them. I'm going to get as much gas as I can from the station outside."

Cas nodded and stayed behind to guard the carts as Dean headed toward the door and Katharine headed for the back of the store. About two minutes later, Katharine came jogging back with two women and a man in tow.

"Castiel, this is Mandy Emerson. Mandy Emerson, Castiel Novak." Katharine indicated the closest woman to her, a muscular and lean creature with shortly cropped blond hair that sported a great deal of curls.

"Lacey Shire." This was a tall and very thin African-American woman with buzzed black hair and a massive hatchet in her belt.

"Ron Thomas." The last was the man, a surly and drunk-looking fellow with vaguely yellowed skin and hair so orange, it was nearly comical.

"Relations?" Cas asked, observing the wary glances among the small group.

"Mandy is my sister." Katharine smiled sadly. "Her husband, Peter, is no longer with us. Ron is my unofficial husband - we were about to be married before all of this started. Lacey is a close friend to Mandy."

"We're dating." Lacey interrupted, the sass in her tone blatant.

"O.. okay." Cas straightened his tie uncomfortably. "Dean should be here any minute. Let's take what you have to the truck."

"Oh, that was a load of crap." Katharine threw back her head with a rusty, hearty laugh. "We barely have a gun, a bottle of wine, and a can of chicken noodle soup between the three of us."

"What?!" Cas stepped backwards, Dean's cart in one hand and his in the other. "We can't afford to feed all of you, I'm sorry. There won't be enough as it is."

"We'll help you." Mandy promised, batting her pretty brown eyes and twisting one blond curl seductively around her finger, which earned a worthy nudge from a glaring Lacey.

"And we-" Cas turned around, wheeling both carts with him. "Won't help you."

"Please!" Katharine's voice broke, and she placed a tentative hand over her stomach. "I'm pregnant."

"You don't look pregnant." Cas replied dubiously, noting the lack of fat beneath the woman's thin-fitting top.

"I swear I am." Katharine cried desperately. She reached for Ron's hand and interlaced her fingers with his tightly. "Bring us back to the bunker; don't tell Dean about the supplies. Please. You're our only hope."

Cas couldn't help but be concerned that the woman was being honest, in which case, condemning her and her small troupe to death in the midst of the apocalypse would not be the Godly thing to do. He shook his head at her silently, and against his better judgment, led them outside.

The parking lot was vacant aside from the Impala and Dean by the gas station, struggling with one of the containers as he watched something in the distance worriedly. His movements were frantic and worried, and Cas found himself concerned for Dean.

"Dean?" Cas called, pulling out his pistol instinctively. He tried to follow Dean's gaze, but saw only where the woods that hid the bunker began.

"Cas!" Dean nearly dropped the tank he was struggling with, straining to carry the other two he had filled. "One of the dead, in the trees!"

"Dead?" Ron squinted, pulling out a gun that Cas had forgotten to check for. "That's what you guys call them?"

"Yeah. It's kind of our unofficial term for ' _them_ ' to avoid referring to them as human." Cas broke into a short jog, leaving the two carts stranded next to the car. Katharine stayed there with Mandy, while Lacey and Ron followed him. "What do you call them?"

"Walkers." Lacey pulled out a knife that had been stashed away in her boot and brandished it firmly in her tense grip, a stern and focused look on her face. "We call them walkers."


	11. Chapter 11: The Bomb

Chapter Eleven: The Bomb

The drive back was long and silent. Cas chose to drive, since he didn't dare trust Ron, Mandy, or Lacey with the wheel. Katharine, if she really was pregnant, was in no condition, and neither was Dean, who was unconscious in the passenger seat.

"I'm sorry, Castiel." Mandy reached out a hand tentatively to pat Castiel's shoulder, but Lacey shot her a stern glare and she retreated as suddenly as she had come.

"We shouldn't have stayed away from him so long." Cas felt a terrible sinking in his chest, which he surmised must have been his heart breaking. "The base is only-"

The radio crackled and burst into a loud siren of noise, whirring its way into every corner of the car. Cas tensed, gripping the steering wheel and slowing the car.

"What is that?" Katharine yelled, her hands jerking up to cover her ears as Cas attempted to turn down the radio.

"INCOMING ALERT SYSTEM FOR THE UNITED STATES, REGION CENTRAL, STATE KANSAS. IF YOU ARE IN THE VICINITY OF WICHITA, TOPEKA, EMPORIA, OR LEBANON, PLEASE EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY IN THE DIRECTION OF LINCOLN, NEBRASKA. BOMBS ARE INCOMING FOR WICHITA IN ONE HOUR."

"Bombs?" Mandy gasped, grabbing onto Lacey as tears welled in her eyes.

"Wichita is miles away." Cas assured his troubled passengers, still slowing the vehicle. Another car drove by them in a significant panic.

"THE BOMB WILL LIKELY CAUSE THE FOLLOWING: DEATH OF ALL HUMANS IN IMPACTED AREA, INCLUDING THOSE INFECTED, BURNS SEVERE AS THIRD DEGREE WITHIN A FIFTY MILE RADIUS OF THE TARGET SITE, WHICH IS WESLEY MEDICAL CENTER, AND MANY OTHER SYMPTOMS THAT WE ARE NOT AT LIBERTY TO DISCUSS WITH THE GENERAL PUBLIC."

"Shit." Ron leaned back in his seat, dumbfounded. "We need to get in the bunker as soon as we can."

"What about all the other people?" Cas steadied the vehicle as another car drove past them at a reckless speed. "The ones nearby who have nowhere to go?"

"They'll have to try and get away." Lacey shuddered as another car zoomed past them, its panicked driver steering erratically over the yellow line dividing the two sides of the road.

"We need to be friends with a doctor." Jo groaned as she lifted Dean's right leg, waiting for Charlie to grab his left. "We can't heal Dean by ourselves."

"What happened out there?" Sam ran a hand through his long locks of hair in a worried sort of fashion, his eyes narrowed.

"Dean got attacked by one of the..." Cas glanced at Lacey, and cleared his throat. "One of the 'walkers.' It bit him in the arm, by his bicep."

"It... bit him?" Bobby crossed his arms, watching the group from under his ball cap with a disapproving look in his eyes.

"It might have finished him off too, but we managed to get to it before it took another bite." Mandy pursed her lips, reaching blindly for Lacey's hand a moment before she found it. "We were worried Dean's shouting would bring more to us, so we got him in the car and then he lost so much blood..."

"Sound attracts them?" Kevin had a notepad, and was standing off to the side scribbling away in it.

"Yes." Ron nodded, taking one of Dean's arms. Cas grabbed the other. "We've been out on the road for about a week and a half now. Left home... we knew it was going to get worse. We were looking for a safe, isolated place to hole up in. It gave us a lot of time to learn about these creatures."

"Which one of you knows the most about the walkers?" Ellen looked at each of the new recruits in turn, her gaze eventually settling back on Ron.

"That'd be Lacey." Mandy smiled slightly and glanced at her girlfriend with pride. "She's been documenting them since day one."

"Lacey, can you please come back here with me and Kevin?" Ellen asked, politeness evident in her decisive tone. Lacey agreed, perhaps out of submission, and followed the two into the library.

"What'll we do about Dean?" Bobby asked, frustration rising in his tone. "Do we cut off his arm or something?"

"We can't." Sam watched as Cas, Jo, Ron, and Charlie heaved Dean onto the dining room table, clearing away the chairs that surrounded it to make room. "There's a chance that the infection has already spread into the rest of his body, or his bloodstream – I'm not certain how it works. If we were to amputate his arm, it would be so high up he would never be able to have any mobile function in it again. Plus, he could bleed out and die without the proper instruments to stem the blood flow, and it might not even work."

"But if we just leave him... won't he turn into one of those things?" Cas stepped away for a moment, undoing the belt from around his waist and fastening it above the bite in Dean's arm. "We have to take the chance."

"How would we even cauterize the wound?" Sam's voice rose in panic, and he stepped forward for fear he might need to intervene. "There's no way to do it without..."

"Burning it." Charlie stared down at Dean with wide, nervous eyes. "But we could do it. I saw someone online do it once."

"You what?" Jo glanced at Charlie quizzically, her expression a mixture of disgust and aw.

"Everything has been done on the internet once, and I've seen it all." Charlie shot Jo a quick, small smile through her nervousness. "Some guy had his arm cut off right below the elbow, and he held it over a mixture of candles and burning it on a stove top until it cauterized and stopped bleeding. Then they treated it for infection."

"It might not work." Sam came to stand beside Cas, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a knowing, kind look. "Dean might not come back from this."

"He'll die either way, then." Cas hardened his gaze, staring at the lifeless body of the man he had only just begun to love in the way he hadn't know he needed to. "And one of those ways gives him a chance."

The screams were too much to bear.

Meg, Jo, and Kevin were all in the library with Ellen and Lacey, pouring over books that might give them a clue as to what kind of herbs or supplements they might be able to gather in order to create an infection cream. They only had burn ointment in the first aid kits they'd found – the trips of the morning to find supplies had gone rather well, but no one was in the mood to head out again.

The bomb was scheduled to detonate in Wichita any minute, and accordingly, the three pigs, four horses, two cows, and both the chicken and the goat that had been found on an abandoned farm had been moved down to the dungeon, where they would be most out of the way. Garth had cleverly thought to stop into an old farm mill that had been closed long before the apocalypse and pick up some feed for the animals, so they were peaceful.

Mandy and Bobby were chatting with Garth about what to do from then on out, which involved a very serious conversation regarding how soon after the detonation of the bomb it would be okay to go closer to Wichita and gather supplies.

The screams echoed around the corridor, to where Charlie sat with her headphones on, trying to block out the noise as she watched videos about homeopathic ways to cure infections. Katharine sat next to her dazedly, one hand pressed protectively against her stomach. Her group had already been assimilated into the bunker, as per Sam's request at the assumption that 1) Katharine was pregnant and 2) the group already knew the location of the bunker, and it was better to be making friends rather than foes.

The pain was sourced in the kitchen where Cas, who was busy holding the stub of Dean's arm against the stove top, was trying to swallow the tears that welled in his eyes at the scent of sizzling flesh. Sam held Dean around his chest, trying to keep him still, and after a few minutes, it was over. A great silence settled upon the bunker for a single moment as Dean, overwhelmed with the pain, slumped unconsciously into Cas' arms. Sam lifted up his brother's legs and Cas struggled for that moment to balance his boyfriend in his arms. They moved just slightly, toward the door in preparation to bring Dean into his room.

A loud and very sudden boom screamed louder than all the human ones just before it, as the bomb smashed into the distant hospital and echoed out for several hundred miles. There were several more moments of silence as everyone waited, their eyes focused on the bunker ceiling. The chandelier above the dining room table swayed ever so slightly, casting an eerie gloom over the drying blood from the amputation. The wind whistled ferociously outside for a heartbeat, the nearby trees snapping in unison with a sickening crack. Then, just as suddenly and terribly as it had begun, it was over.


	12. Chapter 12: The Time

Chapter Twelve: The Time

"Was that it?" Cas stood there in the silence, trying to keep himself still as Dean remained slumped against him.

"Seems like it." Sam narrowed his eyes and took a long, hard look at the ceiling, watching for any cracks. There appeared to be none, and he glanced back at Cas. "Did they say if it was nuclear?"

"No." Cas shuddered. "But I wouldn't put it past them."

It was several hours later that the first person ventured outside, though he was hardly doing it in bravery. It was Kevin, who had pulled himself away from everyone after talking to Ellen and Lacey, resorting to eating alone in the dungeon with the animals. Charlie had heard him muttering some nonsense about finding his mother and reportedly tried, much to her credit, to console the anxious teen, but he had only withdrawn more.

It was about seven in the evening when he left.

Dean was passed out in his room and Cas was watching over him with nervous anticipation. Sam and Charlie had gone downstairs with Ellen and Lacey to discuss what was going to happen next, while Bobby and Mandy talked about their time as hunters, a subject in which both of them shared common ground. Ron and Katharine had retired to their sleeping quarters while Meg, Garth, and Jo were instructed to guard the entrances and keep the bunker safe from anyone who might stumble across it.

For anyone who might have been listening – namely Cas, who was down the hall in Dean's room – the muffled voices of this trio as they tried to convince Kevin to stay inside echoed loud enough to hear.

"Kevin, you can't go out there." It was Garth, his voice soft and defensive. "We can't let you. It's too dangerous."

"I'm going, whether or not you guys like it." Kevin's voice was trembling, breaking in its high pitch. "I need to find my mom. She could have been in the city."

"There's no way she was." Jo bristled, her footsteps echoing down the hall as she paced back and forth in front of the door. "She'd be dead if she were."

"I need to know. I can't live this way." Kevin began panicking slightly, his breath quickening and emotions further escalating.

"Sometimes we don't get to know." Meg retorted in a crass sort of way, her demeanor rough and sour. "Step back or I'll make you."

Cas cracked open his door so he could hear better, immediately failing at being surreptitious as it creaked loudly through the echoing hallway. Dean had only just fallen asleep, and Cas was both trying to keep it that way and not alert his friends to his presence. There was silence by the bunker entrance for a moment, and he froze in fear. Had they heard him?

"What was that?" Garth whispered, his voice carrying past Cas and down the hall.

Clearly, they had.

"Let's go make sure everything's okay." Jo muttered, moving away into the main part of the hall. Cas stepped back from the opening he had made, his trench coat whipping ungainfully around his ankles as he shut the door in front of himself as quietly as he could. Jo and Garth walked past quickly, leaving Meg and Kevin still over by the entrance. Hardly a minute later, their footsteps faded and the talking resumed by the door.

"Kevin, you can't leave. Stop it!"

The keys jingled in midair and fell against the floor, scraping on the cement as someone grabbed them. Cas opened the door again, turning the handle slowly to avoid the harsh creaking noise of before.

"I'm sorry, I have to do this. My mom needs me."

"She doesn't – she never has, and she never will." Meg scoffed sarcastically. "She's the one always saving your ass. What makes you think she needs you to save hers?"

Cas had widened the door enough that he could fit his body through it, and he did, fussing for a moment over his trench coat as it became caught on a stray splinter.

"She called me, okay?" Kevin's voice broke just a slight bit, catching on the tears in his throat. "She called me from Wichita and said she's in the city. There was a group of people that took shelter in a nursing home and she needs me to come get her because they're not letting anyone out."

"It's all the way across the state." Meg took a deep breath and exhaled it in a bored sigh. "By the time you get there, she'll be dead or infected."

Cas crept down the hall, lifting and lowering his leather shoes with a precise determination.

"Which is why I have to leave now."

"I'm not going to let you." Meg insisted, barring the door with her arm just as Cas rounded the corner, entering the scene.

"And neither will I." Cas straightened his consistently crooked tie and cleared his throat. "Kevin, I'm going to have to ask that you step away from the door."

"Make me." Kevin stood there with the keys dangling from his clenched fist, eyes wide and filling with frightened tears. His voice lacked the conviction that he wanted to hold.

Cas raised his hand apologetically, feeling the tendrils of remaining grace surging through his veins. "I will if I have to."

"I'm sorry, guys." Kevin was about to cry now, his breathing ragged and noisy with rising panic. He brought out of his jacket a small pistol and held it against Meg's head. She struggled for a moment, knowing Kevin was weak and wouldn't challenge her, but he simply clicked a bullet into place.

"Let me leave and I'll let her go." Kevin narrowed his eyes at Cas, drawing his lips into a thin line. "I don't want to hurt her, I swear – I really don't. But I need to go find my mom."

Cas took a long, hard look at Meg, his eyes full of a mixture of admiration and resentment. This was someone he had once begun to have feelings for, before he realized Dean was the one he was meant to be with. She stared back at him with that sly little smirk on her face, her arms crossed over long tangles of blond hair.

"What'll it be, Clarence?" she smiled, wider this time, and Cas blinked back at her knowingly. She used to call him Clarence frequently, back when she helped the boys on their regular hunts. He quite liked the name more than Castiel, which, while pleasant, didn't have as melodic a sound when one spoke it.

"I have no romantic feelings for you now, Meg, but I still consider you my friend." Cas straightened his shoulders. "I would strongly dislike to see you die."

Meg opened her mouth, about to retort, but Jo and Garth came back into the area in that moment and surprised Kevin, who wasn't expecting them.

It all happened in a split second.

Cas was aware of what was going on, but he felt frozen in place.

His limbs weren't working nearly as fast as his brain.

His mind wasn't functioning at the speed his eyes were.

He saw the flash as the bullet flew from its barrel and burrowed itself deep into Meg's skull.

He saw the gun clatter to the floor a moment later, skidding across the cement.

He saw Kevin stand there, eyes wide in shock as the keys dangled from his clenched fist.

Then time came back into motion. Jo screamed and Garth lurched forward awkwardly in Meg's direction as she fell, her eyes closed long before she hit the ground. Cas lowered his hand so it was limp by his side, his trench coat feeling too big for his body as he shrank away, overwhelmed by the war of emotions that clouded his mind and judgment.

Kevin was sobbing between gasps of terror, repeating the word "sorry" over and over again until he was blue in the face.

He stepped away from the gun, back against the door, and fumbled a moment with the keys in his hand.

He looked straight at Cas, who still wasn't processing the situation.

Then, just like that, he was gone.

Out the bunker door he went, like a man without a mind, stumbling over his own shoes as tears ran like rivers down his face. He went as such for less than a minute, his back slowly fading into the distance. Garth was knelt by Meg's body, which was as utterly lifeless as the gun lying beside her on the ground, and Jo was on her knees as well, over near where she had come in. Her face was hidden behind her tears as she screamed. She didn't cry, she didn't wail. There was no sadness – only fear.

Cas watched as Kevin kept running, headed in the direction of a little blue car someone had brought with them to the bunker when they arrived. He slammed himself into the door on accident, the keys still gripped in his hand.

A walker came up behind him, its gait lanky and stilted. Cas wanted to yell for Kevin to look out – he had already forgiven the poor boy, whose only instigation for every action he took was fear. But Cas was still frozen, just had he had been moments ago, and the walker overcame the ill-equipped Kevin. He had still been on the ground, recovering from slamming his body so hard into the blue car, and there was no time for him to react.

There was never enough time.


	13. Chapter 13: The Moment

Chapter Thirteen: The Moment

The shovel was roughly thrust into the ground, the earth shifting to mold itself around the curve of its spade. Cas squared his shoulders for a moment, feeling the sharp twist of pain as he did so. He had been digging for an hour now at least - it looked much easier to dig such large graves on television.

Dean was slouched over by the Impala's left front tire, staring dazedly off into the distance with a bottle of beer in his hand. Cas glanced at Dean for a moment, the heat stirred by a listless and faint breeze before settling back on him again. The Impala was grumbling lazily as music thudded out of its pulsing radio, the beat fluctuating and waning in a soothing way.

"Cas."

"Yes, Dean?" Cas drove the shovel into the ground again, feeling the sweat that had been beading on the edges of his forehead begin to trickle down his cheeks. Beside the grave he was digging lay Kevin's body, pale and lifeless in the harsh and unforgiving light of day. Meg was already buried, a makeshift and ungainly setup of twigs and her leather jacket marking the place where she lay.

"Tell Sam to get out here." Dean grunted, setting his beer back onto the grass beside him. "I need to talk to you."

"Can't it wait?" Cas set the shovel down next to the grave, scanning the near distance for any sign of Sam. He knew that Charlie had been organizing a run to Wichita with him and a few others, but he wasn't sure if they'd left yet.

"No." Dean paused, looking for a long, unbroken moment at the bottle he had set aside, before picking it back up again and taking a decisive swig. "Now."

"Alright." Cas winced as he heaved himself out of the grave, which was only five feet deep. It took him a moment to scramble out with the mess of a trench coat he was still wearing, despite the heat. "If you insist."

Cas took off down the small cement path to the bunker, taking a cautious breath of air. The bomb in Wichita didn't appear to have been nuclear, but they had noticed an influx of walkers in the last few days. The beasts were likely traveling out of Wichita toward California, hitting this area along the way.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Garth jogged up to Cas' side out of nowhere, holding a small, squealing piglet in his arms. "Is Dean okay?"

"Yes, but he wants me to take a break." Cas sighed, surveying the small animal that Garth was holding. It was young - almost too young to have been one of the ones they picked up earlier. Garth noticed his suspicious glance and laughed heartily, balancing the writhing piglet in both hands.

"One of the pigs we grabbed from that farm up the road was pregnant," he smiled. "She gave birth a few hours ago to a bunch of little piglets, but this was the only one that made it."

"Who else is here?" Cas narrowed his eyes, trying to refocus on his task without appearing rude to Garth. The piglet squealed noisily, causing Garth to fuss over it for a moment before replying.

"Well, Sam just took a big group up toward the city to see what they could find. I think it was him, Charlie, Lacey, Mandy, Ellen, and Ron. I could get Bobby to give you a break, if you'd like. The only other people here are Jo and Katharine, but Jo's busy doing inventory of what we have in the kitchen."

"That would be great." Cas breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "I'll go tell Dean."

It was an estimated twenty minutes later that Dean and Cas both walked through the bunker door together, their footsteps slippery against the cement. It was wet from being scrubbed vigorously by Sam, who had insisted on doing it himself.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Cas shed his trenchcoat on a nearby hook, feeling a massive weight lifted off of his shoulders. The air around him felt cool and soft - he took a deep breath, unafraid.

"We need to talk in my room." Dean lowered his voice and eyed a nearby trash bin, playing with the bottle in his hand.

"Why not here?" Cas thought about snatching the bottle away and tossing it into the bin, but he shuddered at the memory of what had gone down when he had tried that maneuver last.

"Just come on."

One door shut and a heartbeat later, Dean was standing only inches away from Cas, his green eyes focused and unfocused at once.

"Do you love me?" He whispered, the lines around his eyes worn and his smile, tired.

"Of course." Cas tilted his head just slightly, trying to convince himself to be at ease. He could feel each puff of breath as Dean breathed, each wave that radiated off of his freckled and sun-kissed skin, and every beat that sounded from his nervous heart.

"There are things..." Dean took a moment, composing himself. All of a sudden, that tanned and gorgeous deity was gone and replaced with a shivering, pale, and frightened man. "Things I want to say to you. Things I want to do with you. I'm not sure there's time anymore. After Kevin... Meg... we are so close to death, every minute of every day. We could die right now, we could die tomorrow. I want to spend a lifetime with you, as long of an eternity as I can manage, but it's impossible. I don't even know where to start, if I could."

"You can start now." Cas let himself lean in just a little, standing precariously close to Dean. They were so close now, their foreheads touching and their noses a whisper away. "Don't waste the time we have together, on this day, in this month, in this year. It may be numbered, but it's no less perfect."

"Give me a minute." Dean paused, closing his eyes, and drew a soft and hushed breath that silenced any noise or distraction in the room. For one beautiful, perfect moment, the two of them stood there, arms relaxed at their sides, foreheads touching and noses brushing. They were simultaneously connected and apart, their minds peaceful and thoughts quiet.

"I love you, Cas."

There was a short beat of silence, one that was comfortable and warm. Cas opened his eyes and stared into Dean's, allowing himself the luxury of a small smile. He moved his arms from his sides and placed them on Dean's shoulders, keeping his eyes focused so that Dean was all he could see.

"I love you, Dean," he whispered, and just like that, the moment was over.

As the two of them left the room, side by side with hands eager to be intertwined but forced to be stationary as they passed a busy looking Jo, Cas knew it would be okay. Even if they died tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that... as long as whoever survived longer could remember the way they felt during that moment with any sort of vivid imagination, they would be alright.

He could still feel the buzz of it in his bones, the life in a body torn by grief, the sparkle in eyes becoming dull. He wanted to thank Dean for the moment, but it was nearly too late. Jo was just behind them now, scribbling away in a notebook, and she wasn't looking. Instinctively, impulsively, his hand reached out and bumped against Dean's with a purposeful nudge. It happened in a heartbeat, scarcely a second, but it was monumental. Dean reached back and grabbed hold of Cas' hand, lacing his fingers between Cas' and giving him a little squeeze of appreciation.

 _"When the night has come, and the land is dark, and the moon is the only light we'll see..."_ Dean hummed quietly as they walked toward the main room, his voice echoing in the hall. _"No, I won't be afraid, no, I won't be afraid, just as long as you stand, stand by me."_

Cas joined in, a real and genuine smile spreading across his face as he remembered how it had felt to share that moment with Dean days ago. They had been standing in the light from the kitchen chandelier and singing the song together, only having just begun to see each other in a new sort of way. If only life could be a series of remembering such sweet, perfect moments, savoring them in your mind and looking back with vivid fondness.

 _"And darlin', darlin' stand by me, oh now stand by me."_ Cas sang, his voice gravelly and rough, but Dean gave him another squeeze of the hand, and it was enough to keep him going. This time they tried to sing in unison, and though Dean was off beat and Cas off key, it still managed to be the sort of perfect only love, with all its acceptance, can discern.

 _"If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall, and the mountains should crumble to the sea..._

 _I won't cry, I won't cry - no, I won't shed a tear..._

 _Just as long as you stand, stand by me."_


	14. Chapter 14: The Lost

Chapter Fourteen: The Lost

"When do you think Sam and the others will be back?"

Cas shrugged absentmindedly, focused on the way the clouds in the sky warped and spread their wispy particles. He was completely distracted, the cement of the bunker roof hard against his back. They had climbed to the very top of the building that sat above the bunker to distract from its existence. The roof had once been sloped, but it had fallen long ago to make ragged obstacles of splintered planks and cracked stone. There was a cleared space from when the boys had tried to repair the roof, but given up early on in the process.

"Probably sometime later this week," he mumbled quietly, shifting to a more comfortable position as the sun beat down on his face. "Why do you ask?"

"I worry." Dean admitted, propping himself up his one good arm. "It's been two days since they contacted us."

"The radio is down." Cas replied, still distracted. The cloud just above him contorted into a shape that vaguely resembled a halo. "Of course they haven't said anything."

"I wish we could go out and check on them." Dean whispered, his voice almost lost in the soft breeze that stirred the fallen leaves nearby. "I have to know if he's okay."

"Sam would never do anything risky, Dean." Cas smiled, enjoying the way it felt for a moment. "He's not as daring as you tend to be."

"I don't take risks." Dean laughed for the first time for a long while. It had been two weeks since Sam had left with Charlie and the others, and the group checked in occasionally from places within the city that hadn't been wrecked as badly.

"Sure you do." Cas lifted his head for a moment and settled his hands beneath it, enjoying an accompanying breeze. "I worry about it. But I can't stop you."

"Of course you can, if I'm really ever being so dangerous." Dean took a deep breath, the smile fading from his tired face. "Just call me out on it. Tell me not to. I trust your opinion, and I trust you."

"I love you." Cas whispered, the words coming from his lips without any forethought. There was a great lightness in him then, spreading from his head to his toes. It was like their little secret, hidden between lines in a story or indicated by a simple melody, only for the two of them to share.

"I love you too." Dean murmured, and the cloud that had once been a halo broke apart and drifted away from itself, spreading its way across the bright afternoon sky.

The static on the radio faded in and out as Bobby fussed over the antennae, engrossed in his project. Garth stood behind him, arms folded across his chest, and Jo was slumped against the wall, her head buried between her knees. Cas entered the room, having just left the roof a moment ago.

"What's going on?" Cas asked, adjusting the collar of his trench coat. "Is everything okay?"

"The group is trying to contact us from Wichita." Jo glanced up, leaning back against the wall. There were tears streaming down her cheeks in a peculiar fashion, and she looked like she was ready to break apart any second. "The signal on their end isn't strong enough."

"They said... something about Ellen before they cut out and they're still trying to talk." Garth nodded toward Bobby. "He's not too happy about the news."

"Guys?" Dean rounded the corner, his phone in hand. "Sam just texted me."

"Shut up." Bobby stepped back for a moment, his face red with a mixture of emotions. "Everyone, just SHUT UP."

No one said a word, and the silence became suffocating. Cas tried to breathe as quietly as he could, his chest rising and falling in a shallow sort of way. Dean crossed the room to be by his side, treading lightly in the wake of Bobby's panic.

"This damn thing..." Bobby slammed his hand roughly against the table by the radio, which quivered violently as a result. "We need to go help them. They're five miles west of the hospital and it sounds bad."

"How bad?" Dean kept his voice low, sidling closer to Cas and tucking his only hand in his pocket. "The text just said... well, never mind what it said, but it wasn't about Ellen."

"Ellen." Garth whispered, as if he expected only Dean could hear. He always meant well, but it was often not the message sent across. "She... she got bit. Swarmed, actually."

"Is she..." Cas tilted his head and felt concern rising in his body in its usual anxious and menacing fashion. There was another brief bout of silence as Garth glanced downward, his eyes filling with tears, and Jo stood there, her eyes closed as she tried to keep from openly sobbing. Her chest was convulsing with the grief that she was attempting to hold back, just until she could be alone, and this scene had Cas on the edge of crying as well.

"Guys?"

It was Sam's voice over the radio. Dean's eyes widened, shining with tears from the news, and he ran a hand through his hair in disbelief.

"Sammy?" Dean knelt by the radio, which was still shaking slightly from the impact of Bobby's hand. "Sammy, it's me. What's going on?"

"I- I.."

It broke up for another moment, and then Charlie's voice came in, the excitement that usually accompanied it replaced by notes of fear.

"Dean, we need help. Ellen... Ellen's gone, and so is Ron. Katharine can't know, not yet. We couldn't save them. Ellen tried, he was stuck, and-"

"Charlie, hey." Dean tried to laugh, but it came out like a hollow and hoarse whisper. "Just tell us where you are."

"We're at this place called Prairie Hill something or another... we were trying to get out of the city, but we're still far away from you guys. The cars are out of gas."

"The only Prairie Hill I know is that vineyard... I think that's about two hundred miles southeast from us. Can you walk part of the way?" Dean queried, biting the edge of his lip as he thought. "It would take less than a week that way."

"You don't understand." Charlie's voice was fading in and out now, the static growing steadily louder. "We're calling you from this place because we have no other choice. There's a massive horde of walkers outside... maybe thousands or more. They're all from Wichita. We can't leave."

"We'll come get you." Dean was beginning to sound desperate. His fingers tapped against the table impatiently as he waited for the static to fade away.

"You can't." Charlie was crying now... she had to be, by the sound of it. Her voice was more muffled and she took large gasps between each word. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I have to go-"

"Charlie?" Dean fiddled with the radio for a moment as it completely cut out, replaced with sporadic bursts of static that filled the awful silence in the room.

"When will they be back?"

"I don't know, Dean. Telling the future is not one of my abilities. Why do you keep asking?"

"When do you _think_ they'll be back?"

"Soon."

"Are you sure?"

"No one is ever sure these days."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"No, because I'm sure that I love you."

"I love you too, Dean."

"It's okay. It's okay."

\- Ellen Harvelle


	15. Chapter 15: The Death

Chapter Fifteen: The Death

The quiet was broken by screams.

Cas sat upright in bed, fear pulsing like lightning through his veins. Without bothering to pull on his trenchcoat, he switched off his reading lamp and ran as quickly as he could toward the door. Dean was already in the hallway, a panicked look on his face.

"It's got to be Jo." Dean shouted above the screaming, which was sounding by the bunker door. He was dressed in his boxers and a flannel shirt that looked two sizes too big, and Cas' face flushed at the most inopportune time.

"Let's go." Cas coughed, running a hand through his hair self-consciously before sprinting down the hall with Dean in tow.

At the door stood Jo, as assumed, with a man beside her. He was tall and thick with a large gut manifesting beneath his torn black shirt and eyes that were hardly discernable from beneath tangled locks of greasy brown hair. He held a pistol in his right hand, the tip of it resting against Jo's head.

"Do you guys hole up in here or somethin'?" The man cocked his head and adjusted the angle of the pistol. Jo whimpered now, her screams fading away.

"What's it to you?" Dean narrowed his eyes at the man, reaching toward the back of his belt. He had a gun there – Cas could see the edge of the handle bulging just above the hem of the jacket.

"Me and my group have been looking for a place to stay. I've got another guy with me outside." The man smirked. "How about you let us in?"

"How about you turn around and leave before anyone gets hurt." Cas stepped forward, his angel blade poised in the sleeve of his suit.

"Fine." The man used his free hand to dig around in his jacket for a moment, drawing out another pistol. "I figured you'd say that. So, here's my final offer. You give us half of everything you have." He ruffled Jo's hair with the barrel of his pistol. "Or I kill her, and then _take_ half of everything you have."

"Just let her go." Dean's voice cracked as he fiddled with the gun in his hand behind his back. "Please. We've lost so many people already."

"I've given you the terms of our little agreement." The man raised his other gun, aiming it toward Cas. Immediately, Dean was full of a tension he hadn't shown before. He stepped in front of Cas, drawing out the gun from behind his back.

"My friend asked you to leave." Dean brandished the gun, clicking a single bullet into place. His tough guy façade was back into action as Cas stood back helplessly, fearing if he moved, he would risk Jo's life. "Don't make him ask again."

"I'm going to count to three." The man didn't lower his gun, keeping his eyes focused on Dean. "Once I get to three, I will shoot you and your friend here in the head. Okay? Glad we're all on the same page."

"Dean, it's fine." Jo was still standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks. She gave him a faint smile, one that was empty and broken. This was a girl who had just lost her mother, the one thing she had left in the world. "I don't matter like Cas and the others do."

"Of course you do." Dean turned to Jo, more frustrated than anything. "How could you believe that? You're so important to all of us... and me."

"Then how could you pick him?" Jo winced as the man tapped the trigger. "Over me? If I am so important, why choose him?"

"Choose who?" Genuinely confused, Dean lowered his gun just a fraction, now aiming for the man's neck.

"Cas." Jo choked back a sob, closing her eyes. "The last time we saw each other, before all of this, you were trying to... you were trying to be with me. And now...?

"Me and Cas..." Dean straightened his shoulders, clearly resisting the urge to glance back at Cas, who stood there impatiently. "It's not like that, Jo. I didn't choose him over you. It was never that kind of choice. You're like a sister to me."

"A sister you never cared to call up, or spend any time with?" Jo gritted her teeth through the tears. "I'm sorry, Dean. I don't mean to sound selfish. It's been just me and my mom for so many years now, and I thought... I thought just maybe, if I ever saw you again, I'd want to... to have something with you, some kind of life. I wish I hadn't passed up that opportunity, back when I had the chance."

"Jo..." Cas stepped forward, but Dean held up his hand, the pistol aimed toward the ceiling, and shook his head.

"You matter, Jo. More than anything. You're family, regardless of whether or not me and Cas are... together." Dean paused, clearing his throat. The man holding Jo hostage was taking in the situation, as though enjoying the unfolding drama. "I'm sorry you ever had to feel worthless. I know what it's like. You could have come to me, you know. I didn't want you to think I was-"

"One." The man interrupted, his eyes steady as they met Dean's. Cas stepped away, his heart thudding in his chest. He didn't know what to do.

"Dean, just give them the stuff. Let them take whatever they want." Cas whispered, letting the angel blade fall expertly into his hand from his sleeve.

"Two."

"Wait, stop!" Dean stepped forward, lowering his pistol. "Please. You can have whatever you want. Seriously, just take it. But leave her alone."

"I'm sorry, kid." The man didn't look apologetic in the least as he said this, his lips twisting into a sour smile. "You had time to think over and accept my offer, yet you didn't. This is what it has come to."

"Jo, no!" Dean raised his gun again, as if he couldn't decide what to do with it, and checked to make sure he was in front of Cas. "Please, don't do this! You can have whatever you want!"

"It's okay." Jo's eyes were filled with pain and grief, her face swollen with tears, and her heart broken beyond disrepair. "It's okay."

And then she was gone.


	16. Chapter 16: The Girls

Chapter Sixteen: The Girls

Another grave came to join the two that were there before. Dean spent most of his days beside the newest one, his face void of any emotion other than grief. Cas often came out to check on Dean, and once he tried to sit beside him, but was ushered away.

"It's my fault, Cas," Dean had said one day, disinterested in the pie that Cas had presented to him. Cas had traveled out past the old grocery store where they met Katharine and came across another one scarcely touched. He had done this whole adventure to find one slice of pie for Dean, and he had succeeded. The one that he chose was so full of preservatives, it would outlive all the living. Hurt by Dean's refusal of it, he would leave it in the kitchen when he went back to the bunker later, discouraged.

"How could it be your fault?" Cas had asked earnestly, tilting his head just slightly as a soft autumnal breeze wafted by them.

"She didn't think she was worth anything." Dean whispered, turning away from Cas. "Neither am I, if I couldn't make her believe it while she was still alive."

"Dean, please-" Cas reached for his hand, which had been resting on the ground between them, only to have Dean snatch it away.

"I think you should go." Dean's eyes filled with unwanted tears, and he used his hand to shield his face from Cas. "Please."

Cas sat there for a moment, defeated, and slowly got up to leave. He walked back down the path, which he now walked so often it was beginning to become familiar to him, and retreated to his room to be alone.

As if losing Jo and Ellen wasn't enough, it wasn't long before Garth spilled the beans about Ron. Katharine was a mess for three days straight, refusing to eat, spending every minute of time she had in one of the bathrooms, and ignoring every attempt Bobby and Garth made to help her. Her emotions were already high from the pregnancy, which was now beginning to show in her small, rounded stomach, and hearing her husband was dead only worsened it.

There was still no word from the group. Cas wanted to go out and bring them home, believing that if he did, perhaps Dean would love him again. Bobby refused to let it happen, saying they needed everyone to stay, and Garth busied himself with the farm animals in the dungeon instead of making any sort of reply.

It was around noon on the fifth day after Jo's death when Dean came indoors on his own accord, the beer that Cas had given him earlier that day still unopened in his hand. He walked through the main room without looking at anyone, setting the bottle down on the table. Cas watched him from the kitchen door, full of concern.

"There's a truck coming up the road." Dean paused, twisting the cap off of the beer and looking at it with a disinterested gaze. "It's coming toward the bunker."

"Who is on guard duty?" Bobby glanced around the room, first at Katharine, who was curled up in a chair at the table crying into her knees, then to Garth, who was fiddling with his straw hat, and finally Cas, who shook his head silently.

"There is no more guard duty." Cas murmured, resting his head against the doorframe. "I'll head up and see who it is."

"Thanks, Cas." Bobby nodded in appreciation, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Dean, is there anything else you'd like to add?"

The room waited in anticipation, but Dean only shook his head and went out into the hall, down toward his room. His door was loudly shut without the force of a slam behind it, and everyone settled back into an uncomfortable silence.

Cas opened the bunker door and narrowed his eyes, the sunlight blinding him for a moment. He saw three walkers in the distance, ambling around near the graves, and a large pickup truck barreling down the gravel drive.

"Hey!" Cas shouted, shutting the door behind him and sprinting out to the truck. It parked neatly behind the Impala, dust stirring into the air in its wake. One of the doors opened and out stepped a tall and lovely girl with long black hair and eyes that were neither blue nor gray, but somewhere in between. Behind her came a younger girl with blond hair that was braided in some places and fell in waves around her shoulders in others. She gave Cas a huge smile and ran up to his side. Before he knew what was happening, her arms were wrapped around the waist of his trenchcoat, and her words were muffled by tears.

"Claire?" Cas stepped away, getting a better look at her before pulling her close again. "Claire, I thought... I thought you were dead. Is your mom...?"

"Stop trying to be my dad and just be Castiel." Claire moved back, laughing through the tears that ran down her face. "Please."

"Deal." Cas gave her one last hug and turned to see the first girl staring at him disgruntledly with a look of absolute distrust in her eyes.

"Castiel, this is Alex. She was living with me and Jody. I'm not sure the boys told you." Claire flashed a quick smile.

"A pleasure to meet you." Cas stuck out his hand, only to be met by a longer, much more awkward stare as Alex tucked her hands into her pockets. There was a brief pause of silence and the two girls looked at each other, came to some form of silent agreement, and walked inside. Only Claire waved goodbye.

"Cas?" Sam climbed out of the front seat and came over, his face drawn and tired. He gave the angel a cursory glance, and frowned as a result. "Is everything okay? You don't look so good."

"No, actually." Cas sighed. "We lost Jo a few nights ago to some guy who says he works for Negan... whoever that is. They swore to come back - we killed one of their men trying to save Jo. Dean's been a mess ever since."

"I guess now's not a good time to break the news." Sam ran a hand through his hair, tears welling his eyes. He took a moment to draw a shaky breath. "Ellen and Ron weren't the only two we lost."

"Who else?" Cas began scanning the people climbing out of the truck, noting Mandy and Lacey. They were missing somebody. He racked his mind, but couldn't think of who.

"It's Charlie." Sam looked like he was about to break down and sob as he stepped out of Mandy's way. She and Lacey passed, whispering something to one another under their breath. "We were getting out of Prairie Hill Vineyard when the door broke and a whole mess of walkers flooded in. Charlie got caught by the bar and we couldn't get back in to help her... we couldn't wait outside either, situation as it was. She fought so hard... I saw her fall down and get trapped and..."

"We can't tell Dean." Cas took a deep breath, shuddering at the thought of poor Charlie. She didn't deserve such a death... then again, no one ever really deserved a pitiful one. "He'll lose it more than he already has."

"What's he going to say?" Sam frowned, shaking his head. His eyes were still glassy with sadness. "He's going to see all of us and realize she's missing."

"We'll go out and make a run to get food. We'll say she's with us, that she wanted to come." Cas suggested, swallowing the knot in his throat at the thought of lying so blatantly to Dean. "We can leave now."

"Sure." Sam wiped his face quickly and nodded. "Good idea. The truck is still running. Let me run inside and wash up... then I'll come join you."

Cas agreed, waiting until Sam had gone off toward the bunker to walk over to the truck. The radio was on as the vehicle grumbled and shook with exhaustion. It was playing "Stand By Me" as he got in. Cas paused, listening to the melody for a moment, then thought of Dean. He remembered dancing in the kitchen, and lying beneath the clouds, and holding the hand of the man who used to love him. Remembering the moments that he and Dean had shared was always a thing of joy for him, but now it could only bring him sadness. Before he inevitably became overwhelmed by emotion, he switched off the car radio and sat in silence.


	17. Chapter 17: The Found

Chapter Seventeen: The Found

"I love you, Dean."

"Dean?"

"Go away, Cas."

"Dean-"

"Please just go." 

Drives with Dean were often silent, especially as of late. With Sam, it was different. Even in their sadness, the two managed to hold a decent conversation for most of the ride.

"It was an accident that we found Claire and Alex." Sam steadied the wheel of the truck, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "We stumbled on them in the outskirts of the city was we were leaving with the supplies. They had been heading toward the bunker on their own – apparently, Jody was among one of the first to turn and they figured we would be the best people to help them."

"We haven't been able to help anyone lately." Cas sighed, staring out his window absentmindedly. "First Kevin, then Meg, then Ellen, then Ron, then Jo, now Charlie? Dean doesn't even love me anymore. He won't let me anywhere near him."

It took him a minute to register what he had said as Sam sat there with a stunned look on his face.

"What did you just say?"

"I said... um... erm... you know... I said... like a brother... um..." Cas coughed, his face turning read. "He doesn't love me like a brother anymore."

"I know what you meant, Cas." Sam was too upset from the earlier events to crack a smile, but he managed to be amused. "You guys aren't very good at hiding your long, leisurely excursions to the rooftop or random choruses of 'Stand By Me.'"

"Oh."

"It's not a bad thing." Sam tightened his grip on the steering wheel as a walker ambled by the edge of the road. "Really. I'm happy for you guys. But don't think Dean has stopped loving you. He's just going through it right now."

"I said it to him the other day." Cas' eyes filled with tears and he wiped them away with the sleeve of his trenchcoat before Sam could see. "I told him that I loved him and he didn't say anything back."

"Like I said, Cas – he's going through it. He still loves you." Sam frowned, swerving the truck around the walker, which had tried to dive in front of them. "Just ask him."

"I can't." Cas rested his chin on his hand as he kept staring out the window, watching as the colorful autumnal hues of the trees nearby blurred into one. "He won't talk to me."

"Just give him time." Sam reached out, blindly patting Cas' shoulder in a sign of solidarity. "He'll come around. He always does."

They got to the store without anything eventful happening. Sam told Cas to be on the lookout for walkers that might not have been cleared, and for bottles of water. They were already running low and Bobby was worried the water supply might eventually expire itself.

Cas headed off alone, but not toward the water or groans of distant walkers. He headed toward the fridges first, which had been mostly cleared out, but there were two six packs of beer still sitting there. He put them both in his little basket and began scouting out the pie isle.

"Hey, you!"

Cas nearly knocked over a small stack of magazines and rolled his basket into a bunch of dented cans as a voice behind him sounded. He threw his hands up in the air, his trenchcoat sagging loosely around his arms, and turned around.

"Leave the basket and walk out that door." A short woman who couldn't be more than half of Sam's height was aiming her pistol right between Cas' eyes. "Now, and no one gets hurt."

"Hey, okay!" Cas stepped carefully to his left, keeping his hands in the air. "Please take your gun off of me! I will not hurt you, I promise. My name is-"

"I don't give a shit what your name is." The woman cocked her rifle and gave him a nasty glare. "Get out, now. This is _my_ store."

Cas took one look at the meager selection in his basket – the two sets of beers and three articifical pies – and glanced back at the woman.

"Can I please leave with what I have in my cart?" He pleaded, trying to raise his voice loud enough for Sam to hear. "I have money."

"I said get out. You do NOT want to hear me say it again." The woman didn't budge. Cas was about to grab the basket and make a run for it, likely without success, when someone else rounded the corner. He didn't recognize her right away – it was dark inside of the store, and the shadows cast by fallen shelves were enough to plunge anyone into darkness.

"Leave him alone, Anaise. He's a friend."

The woman rolled her eyes and pocketed her gun, glaring at Cas.

"Is it really you?" Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, stepping a little closer to get a better look at the person in the shadows. It was in this moment that Sam rounded the corner, having heard Cas talking, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Sure is," she smiled, winking at Sam. "What's up, bitches?"


	18. Chapter 18: The Broken

Chapter Eighteen: The Broken

Dean didn't eat dinner. He sat at the table with everyone and listened to Charlie regale her story of how she rolled under the bar and hid until the walkers were all obliterated by her new friends, Anaise and Tyler, but he was obviously disinterested. No one had told him that Charlie had been assumed dead, and it was going to stay that way.

Cas continuously tried to make eye contact with Dean, but his efforts came to no fruition. Right after the meal was over, Dean left without waiting for dessert, which was unusual despite his depressed mood. Sam shot Cas a knowing glance and gave him a barely perceptible nod. Cas nodded back, setting his fork on the table by an untouched slice of pie.

"Excuse me." Cas pushed back his chair, trying to be unassuming, and left the room in the direction that Dean had. No one seemed to notice – Charlie was introducing Anaise and Tyler, which had everyone else captivated. By the time Cas had turned the corner, he could already see Dean's figure fading into the distant hallway.

"Dean, wait." Cas called, tripping slightly over his own feet. His shoes were much too big, and he knew he would need a new pair soon.

"Cas, leave me alone." Dean replied, his voice echoing off of the bunker walls. Cas dared to go closer, his footsteps loud against the cement floor.

"No," he said, narrowing his eyes as he came to Dean's side. Dean was motionless now, standing there in silence. "Please stop pushing me away. I want to be there for you. I'm... I'm your boyfriend, for crying out loud."

"Keep your voice down." Dean hissed, his flash of anger fueled by mounting despondence. "I don't want the whole world to know."

"Sam already knows." Cas blurted, which earned a haughty look from Dean. "He's okay with it, but-"

"Cas, for once... could you please just listen to me?" Dean turned away from Cas, looking downward in a dejected fashion. He was walking again now, heading toward his bedroom. Cas had to jog to keep up. "I need to be alone for a while. Please go."

"I've tried my best to be everything you've ever wanted me to be." Cas cried out, not caring how his voice carried down the hallway and toward the dining room. Dean stopped in surprise at Cas' outburst and turned, his green eyes shining with anguish. "I've been trying every day to be there for you, to tell you that I love you, and all that has gotten me is here, where you won't tell me what's wrong and you don't love me anymore and-"

"Hey!" Dean grabbed Cas' arm, his eyes narrowed. A single tear escaped from the bleak sorrow he was keeping inside of him, and he paused to brush it away. "Who told you that?!"

"You... you didn't say it back." Cas was crying unashamedly now, tears rolling down his cheeks. He was blubbering like a child, his face red with emotion. "You haven't for a long while. You won't hold my hand, you won't sing with me, you don't want be around me, you-"

Cas was ready to go on, but he was caught off guard by Dean, who kissed him so suddenly that Cas barely had time to react. After a moment, Cas pulled away and busied himself with wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"What was that for?" Cas took a deep breath, and it came out shakily.

"I still love you, Cas." Dean lowered his voice and slid his hand down from where it was resting on Cas' sleeve to his hand. "It's just been hard for me. I feel like Jo's death is my fault-"

"It isn't."

"Hear me out." Dean laughed, rubbing away another tear that had tried to make its way down his face. "I feel so responsible and it hurts like shit. I don't want it to be this way between us, but every time you try to do something nice for me, it just makes everything worse. It was fine before, but now I feel like I owe you, like I'll never deserve you. I'm not-" Dean paused, his face red as he tried to restrain his misery. "I'm not worthy of being your boyfriend. It's easier if we just... if we just end this now."

"Dean, no..." Cas instinctively reached for Dean and settled on resting his hand on the latter's face. "Dean, if anything, I don't deserve you. I never thought someone like you could ever love someone like me, and it's been so hard for me to grasp that I just want to keep making up for all that I'm lacking."

"I don't think you lack anything." Dean didn't bother to wipe away the next tear that fell, or the one after that. "You're my everything, Cas. I just want to be good to you, and I'm failing, and I-"

"You're not failing in the least." Cas gave him a little smile, and leaned forward slightly. "I think you are one of the most wonderful people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." He kissed Dean's forehead, and waited a moment before continuing. "I'd be honored if you'd still be with me. I want to help you. We can do this together."

"What if you give up on me?" Dean was shaking, and his eyes were closed now because there were too many tears to bother with. "W-What if you decide I'm not worthy, or good enough, or deserving, or any of it... what if you decide you don't love me anymore? Then what do I do?"

"We're going to trust one another, okay?" Cas kissed Dean's forehead again, letting his lips linger on the dozens of freckles that adorned it. "Starting now, we trust that we will always love each other, no matter what."

"I can't." Dean whispered. "I'm broken, Cas. No one can love me."

"See Dean, that's not true because I do love you." Cas pulled back and stared into those beautiful green eyes, ones that still shone through all of the sadness. "I'm broken too."

"We're a mess." Dean tried to laugh, but it got caught in his throat with the knot of tears. Cas laughed for him, waiting a moment before pulling him in for a hug.

"I love you, Dean." Cas murmured, resting his chin on the edge of Dean's shoulder. He could feel Dean's heart pulsing rapidly away, and it began to slowly calm the longer they stood there, wrapped in the other's embrace. "We can be broken together."

"Okay, Cas. T-Thank you... for everything." Dean buried his face into the fabric of Cas' trenchcoat, trying to calm his shaking. "I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier, b-but... I love you too."

They stood there for a moment, cradling one another in this mess of a hug, and Cas began to hum softly, feeling a sweet, blissful peace fall in the place inside him where worry had been before.

 _"When the night has come... And the land is dark..."_ he began, picturing the melody in his head as he hummed along. _"And the moon is the only light we'll see."_

Dean stepped back a little and slid his arm, which had been wrapped around Cas' back, down to the waist of his trench coat. _"No, I won't be afraid, oh I won't, be afraid..."_ He sang, his voice low, perfect, and raspy from the sadness still residing in him. Though it was still heavy and very present in him, Cas could tell was fading with every word of the song.

Cas stepped backward and then forward again once he had figured to set one hand on Dean's waist and the other on his shoulder. Just knowing it was helping Dean heal was enough to encourage him to continue. _"Just as long as you stand, stand by me,"_ he finished, swaying back and forth as the peace replaced every bit of doubt that had swirled in his veins.

 _"Darlin', darlin', stand by me... stand by me, oh, stand by me."_ Dean's voice was still shaking just slightly, but with every passing moment, it became more steady. _"Stand by me."_

 _"Whenever, you're in trouble... won't you stand by me..."_ Cas closed his eyes and leaned against Dean, rocking back and forth from one foot to the other. _"Oh stand, stand by me."_


	19. Chapter 19: The Family

Chapter Nineteen: The Family

For a little while, life resembled something next to normal.

Mandy, Tyler, and Garth made frequent runs at least once a day to keep supplies up. Alex and Claire spent their evenings watching what appeared to be Dean's secret obsession – old recordings of the Vampire Diaries that no one else was known to have saved. Sam, Charlie, Anaise, and Lacey worked to fence off the area surrounding the bunker to keep walkers from getting too close. Jo was the one who always did inventory, so now the job was Katharine's, who was slipping into a depression brought on by Ron's death. Dean was coming out of his, with the help of Cas. They spent all their spare time together, usually in the library by the fire in silence, sometimes on the roof in dizzied daydreams of conversation.

"I'm sorry, Cas." Dean told him once, lying on the roof with his back to the sun and his chin balanced in his good hand. Cas rolled over on his side, his trench coat creased with a litany of wrinkles.

"For what, Dean?" he queried, closing his eyes as he lay there peacefully. The days were getting shorter now, and colder – in only another twenty minutes, they both would need to be back inside the bunker to avoid either freezing or attracting walkers.

"For not saying I love you." Dean sighed, his face twisting into a frown. Cas sat up, buttoning up his coat as a cold wind swept their way.

"You mean when you didn't say it once... two months ago?" Cas gave Dean's forehead a gentle kiss while Dean stared blankly ahead, tears welling in his eyes.

"You know you didn't do anything wrong, right Dean?" Cas leaned back down and settled on his stomach so he could face Dean properly. "But I forgive you anyway, if you'll stop being sorry for it."

"I love you, Cas." Dean whispered. The wind nearly stole away his words, but Cas was close enough to hear them. Clouds were gathering overhead in preparation for a storm, and he heard the distant rumble of thunder.

"I love you more, Dean." Cas lowered his voice and moved closer, balancing his weight on his elbows. The two of them looked ridiculous, lying on their stomachs with their hair tangled by the fierce winds and faces flushed from the cold. With Dean, Cas didn't notice any of it.

"You wish." Dean gave Cas a quick kiss and forced a small smile. "We'll settle this later, but we should head back inside."

"Fine." Cas helped him up, tentatively interlacing his fingers with Dean's. For a moment the two stood there on the roof, staring at the mass of winter clouds in the distance.

 _"When the night has come, and the land is dark... and the moon, is the only light we'll see..."_

Cas watched as the clouds were illuminated by various hues from the fading sunset, setting early in accordance with the winter season.

 _"No I won't be afraid, oh I won't be afraid... just as long, as you stand... stand by me."_

"Cas, can I have a word with you?" Sam waved him over as soon as the pair were inside and drying off. The rain had started while they had been up there, failing at dancing and making fun of themselves in the process.

"What is it?" Cas shed his trench coat by the door and adjusted his crooked tie. "Is it something of import?"

"Kind of." Sam echoed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Can you follow me to the study?"

"Of course." Cas nodded and gave Dean's hand a loving squeeze before letting go. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Alright." Dean's face was a mask of no feeling, but as soon as Sam's back was turned, he gave Cas a little wink. This was how it was for them – it made Dean more secure to have their relationship be somewhat secretive, and Cas was happy to play along.

"See you then."

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Cas asked as he and Sam entered the study together, books of every sort lining their path. It was still a mess from someone unleashing their fury in it last month – there were no confessions to who it was, but it was evident from the mess of bottles strewn in the doorway.

"I need your help with something." Sam was clearly nervous – the lumbering moose he was, he knocked over three stacks of books by taking one step in the wrong direction. "I know you don't have much power left, and I know you're saving it for something special."

"I really only have enough left for one action." Cas sighed. "My grace has been draining since the first time we instigated the apocalypse – for once, it hasn't been our fault – but I've never gotten Metatron to restore it completely."

"See, that's where the problem is..." Sam rubbed his chin awkwardly and sat down at a nearby table, patting the next seat over for Cas. "I got a call just a few minutes ago from California."

"California?" Cas gazed at Sam quizzically. "I had heard that it was ravaged."

"It is." Sam stammered, glancing down at the table to avoid making eye contact with Cas. "It was from Jess."

"I thought she died in the same fashion your mother did, right after you picked up hunting again?" Cas was even more confused now, his blue eyes wide with curiosity.

"That much is true." Sam pulled out his phone and set it tentatively on the table, as though it were a grenade. "But... after the apocalypse started... I thought that maybe there was a chance the reapers would be in a state of shock from all the deaths and the confusion of soul storage. I've been trying for years to bargain with one of them for Jess back in the place of myself, since it was my fault she died, with no luck."

"What is it with you Winchesters blaming yourselves for the unpreventable deaths of others?" Cas glared at Sam, only to be silenced with a shake of the head.

"One of the reapers took the bait last week. She said she would bring Jess back for me in return for my soul, but I'm still here and Jess is too. She called me freaking out, but she's all the way in California and I can't go get her."

"What are you asking me for?" Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I need you to teleport to California and bring her here for me." Sam pleaded, covering his face with his hands. "I know it's selfish and stupid and I shouldn't have done it but... seeing you and Dean together... I-"

"Sam, it's okay." Cas took the phone and scrolled through the messages, searching for a clue to Jess' exact location. "How are you going to explain this to everyone?"

"I don't know." Sam's face was red and tears were streaming down his face as he pulled his hands away. "I shouldn't have done it, I feel like shit... I know Dean is going to hate me for it and... and..."

"He most certainly won't." Cas set the phone back down and rubbed Sam's shoulder comfortingly. "I'll see to it that he doesn't."

"It's not even worth using up the last of your power." Sam wept, his hands shaking as they reached back up to cover his face. "I'm so sorry, Cas."

"Hey, hey." Cas frowned, standing up and coming to Sam' side. "Listen – I would do anything for you. You're family. I'll leave to get Jess right now, but you need to tell Dean before I teleport back – and it won't be long."

"Thanks, Cas." Sam mumbled, his face swollen with tears. Cas sensed a deep frustration inside of him, coupled with a crippling bout of self-disappointment. "I owe it to you."

"You might not have much longer to make it up to me." Cas gave Sam a quick hug before stepping away, his gaze stern. "I sure hope I'm wrong."


	20. Chapter 20: The Grace

Chapter Twenty: The Grace

It was a sunny day over in California. The temperature was ideal, as was the blue sky spread as far as the eye could see in every direction. The scene was perfect, if all you did was stare into the heavens, but if you were to look down for even a moment, the chaos was an abominable sight. Buildings were burning and whatever people were left could be seen shooting rounds off into the guts of various walkers and wasting precious ammo. There were hundreds of walkers in the street, ambling to and fro across the pavement with haggard faces and bloodied clothing.

Cas watched from the roof where he had teleported for a moment, narrowing his eyes. The herd was moving together down the street, as if sweeping for any form of life. They were still several buildings away, but it wouldn't be long before they reached him.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get up here?"

Cas spun around only to stare into the eyes of a beautiful woman in a singed white nightgown, long ringlets of golden hair falling loosely around her shoulders. She held a splintered board in her hand, aiming it at Cas.

"My name is Castiel." Cas raised both of his hands, showing that he was unarmed. Technically, that wasn't honest - he had the angel blade ready to materialize at any moment - but it wouldn't be wise to tell this woman that. "Please - I don't wish to hurt you. What is your name?"

"How do I know I can trust you?" The woman glared at him, the plank still balanced in her hands.

"I was sent by Sam Winchester to find someone named Jessica Moore. She is supposed to be at this location." Cas lowered his hands and sighed. "Do you know where she is?"

"That's me." The woman finally lowered the plank and set it on the ground, her hands visibly shaking. "I'm Jessica Moore."

The walkers were growing closer, treading down the street with ferocious moans and growls. Cas was still standing there on the roof in surprise. Jess glanced at him apprehensively, her eyes wide.

"I can take you back to Sam." Cas stretched his hand out impatiently. "Please, we don't have much time."

"I... I don't even know you." Jess stepped away, afraid. Her nightgown was whipped by the wind and clung to her legs, which were ghostly and pale.

"Please." Cas' voice cracked. "Your name is Jessica Lee Moore. You died when you were lifted to the ceiling by a demon and set on fire. Sam was there. He was watching. You share a birthday with Sam Winchester's brother, Dean, and you studied at Stanford. That's where you met Sam."

"Can you promise to me - swear to me - you're taking me to Sam?" Jessica took a step forward, her curls bobbing with the movement.

"I promise you." Cas nodded, his hand still reaching for hers. "Okay?"

"Okay." Jess took a deep breath and took the final step, her hands slender and shaky. At the moment her skin made contact with Cas', he tried to teleport back to the study, but nothing happened.

"Well?" Jess tilted her head and stared at Cas, withdrawing her hand. "What was that?"

"It's not working?" Cas frowned, glancing up at the sky. "I don't understand... I had enough power to go here and back. I know I did... did repairing the Impala take more out of me than I expected?"

"Will I be able to get to Sam?" Jess' eyes filled with tears, and she followed Cas' gaze to the bright blue horizon. "You just promised me, and I think we're in danger. There are these... these _things_ , walking down the street. I think they're coming for us..."

"We can't leave here unless I can get more grace to restore my power..." Cas folded his arms across his chest and tried to think, but the growls of nearby walkers flooded his senses.

"Grace?" Jess wrinkled her nose in confusion and stepped a little closer to Cas. "Like... spiritual voodoo?"

"No. Well... kind of." Cas resisted the urge to roll his eyes, heaving a heavy sigh instead. "I can explain this all in a few minutes."

"Can you explain it now?" There was a note of panic in Jess' voice, and Cas understood. The walkers were getting closer - by the sound of it, they were already at the door. He had no idea if they were capable of breaking it down, or clambering up the stairs to the roof. They could be in very serious danger, and he need space to try and think of what to do.

"No, I can't. I'm sorry." Cas stepped away from her. He closed his eyes and prayed fervently, hoping that whatever mess Heaven was in, someone would hear him. Hardly thirty seconds later, a frightened and impatient Jess addressed him again.

"Castiel, it sounds like the door broke..."

"Can you just-" Cas was nearly about to lose his temper, the noise of walkers below and consistent pestering of Jess causing him to repeatedly lose his focus.

"Did someone call for help?"

Cas didn't move - he recognized the voice, and his face grew pale.

"Brother... how...?" Cas breathed, his eyes focused on the figure in front of him.

"Miracles can happen, Castiel." The man - or rather, angel - smiled and folded his arms in front of his chest. He was balanced on the corner of the roof, the sound of walkers figuring their way up the stairs of no concern to him.

"Who are you?" Jess looked faint, and she retreated to Cas' side, eyeing her plank from before. It lay motionless on the roof, several feet away. "I-I... I'm just trying to get back to my boyfriend. Can you help us?"

"Well, my brother over here was praying and I decided it was high time for me to come down from my high horse in heaven and aid somebody... you guys are the lucky winners!" The angel smiled coyly, his expression playful. "The name's Gabriel. Nice to meet you."


	21. Chapter 21: The Pie

Chapter Twenty-One: The Pie

"What is all of this for?" Cas eyed Gabriel suspiciously, sizing him up. "We've been living like this for months, and you've never bothered to come help us."

"We don't have time to discuss it now, brother." Gabriel stepped toward them, which earned a glare from Jess. "We're about to be swarmed."

He winked at Jess. "Allow me?"

Gabriel took hold of Cas' hand, who was holding onto Jess, and within minutes, the guttural growls of hungry walkers faded into the peaceful silence of the study.

"Cas?"

Sam's eyes lit up when he saw the two angels, and he got up out of the same chair he'd been sitting in before to wrap Cas in this huge hug. Gabriel stood there for a moment, feigning disappointment, until Sam reached over to give him one as well.

It took longer than it should have for Sam to step away from thanking the two angels to see Jess there, standing behind them quietly. Her eyes were shining with tears, and she was shaking in her white nightgown.

"S-Sam?" she whispered, as though she couldn't believe her eyes. She was so pale and looked so fragile, as if all the life had been drained out of her.

Sam was rendered speechless and he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the girl who he had never really stopped loving. He rested his chin on the top of her golden curls and took a deep, shuddering breath and she rested her head against his chest.

"I promise, this is all going to make sense soon." Sam murmured, his hands shaking as he stroked her hair. "I'm here, okay?"

"I feel like we're intruding on a moment." Gabriel winced, nodding toward Sam and Jess. "Can I talk to you outside, Castiel?"

It was a split second between the time it took for Cas to begin registering what Gabriel had said to the two of them literally standing outside on the roof, where the rain had begun to pour. Gabriel sighed, holding a hand out to catch the droplets.

"Brother, I don't want you to take this the wrong way..." Gabriel sighed in an irritated way. "But I'm not staying."

"What? Why not?" Cas frowned, narrowing his eyes. He tried in vain to evade the rain before it began drizzling in every square inch of space on the roof.

"I'm sure you already know, but Heaven – it's such a mess, it's not funny." Gabriel pursed his lips and sighed. "I'm sorry to leave you so soon, but they need me."

"More than I do?" Cas adjusted the collar of his trench coat, which was damp with the rain. "More than Sam does?"*

"More than you do for now." Gabriel shook his head and placed his finger against his lips. "I can't come back here again, with the situation how it is. We've spent this entire time trying to figure out where the souls are going."

"Will we need you later?" Cas blinked as a raindrop fell on his nose and trickled down his face.

"Yes, Castiel, but I can't be here. I've seen what's going to happen, and it won'. If I were you, I would leave this bunker as soon as you can."

"I can't. Dean would never allow that."

"I know."

"Why in the actual hell would you bring her back?" Dean's voice carried down the hall to where Cas was standing, rummaging in the refrigerator for something to bring Dean for dinner.

"I can't explain it, Dean." Sam was quieter, and Cas had to strain to hear him. "It was a spur of the moment decision. I just... I just wanted to be happy. I still loved her, this whole time. I... I never really moved on. After mom came back... I mean... I know she's gone now... but I thought maybe I could bring Jess back too."

"Has that ever actually worked out in our favor?" Dean hissed. Cas rummaged for a moment more before giving up and retreating to look in the cabinets. "What did you bargain for her?"

"I... I don't know, exactly." Sam sounded pained, and his voice was barely a mumble. "They didn't specify..."

"How could you make a deal like that, Sammy?" Dean's voice was gravelly and low, the way he held it when he was upset. "It's naïve, it's stupid, it's futile. You brought a girl for over a decade back to life during the freaking apocalypse!"

"I don't see what has you so upset." Sam shot back. Cas found the pie that he had tried to offer Dean so long ago, only to be refused. "It's my life, and it was a choice that I made. It doesn't affect you in the least!"

"It doesn't affect me?" Dean's voice dropped dangerously low. "Sammy, do you have any idea what the hell you are saying? You could die. Your soul could be gone. You could be dying, right now! To hell it's not my problem! You're always going to be my problem!"

"Oh, so I'm your problem now?" Sam imitated Dean's voice, and Cas stood by the kitchen doorway with the pie still in his hands. "What the hell, Dean? Let me just get away from you guys then, if I'm such a bother. I'll be with Jess if you need me."

"Sammy, just... come on. That's not-" Dean began, but a door slammed in the distance and the room was once again quiet.

Cas waited a moment before rounding the corner. He was still holding the piece of pie, having dished it out onto plate for Dean.

"Dean?"

"Cas, not right now." Dean was slumped on the floor, his back resting against the nearby door frame. His face was buried in his hands.

"Dean, I-" Cas began, taking a tentative step forward with the pie in his hand. Dean shook his head and turned away, facing the hall where Sam had just gone.

"I'm sorry, Cas..." he whispered. "Not today."


	22. Chapter 22: The Darkness

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Darkness

The slice of pie that Cas had offered to Dean on two separate occasions was left uneaten on the table for days. It withstood the test of time, the fruit within it so preserved, it failed to change color or wither into rot. It was as though everyone in the bunker simultaneously understood its significance, allowing it to reside there on the table until Dean could come out and eat it.

Cas felt frozen in the center of it all, the rest of the world rotating around him at a dizzying pace. Garth, Tyler, and Bobby went out on daily runs with Alex, who was slowly warming up to life in the bunker. Claire, Mandy, Anaise, and Lacey were busy with securing the fence, which they had been working on for months now since Sam and Charlie began it. There was a real concern that the herd of walkers from Wichita had been moving in the direction of the bunker this whole time, and they needed the fence to be strong enough to keep them out until they passed. Charlie was helping Katharine with the inventory to make sure she didn't strain herself, and Sam spent every spare second with Jess, who still hadn't left her room.

It was a week after Gabriel had left that Cas could be found sitting in the hallway across from the door of Dean's room. His eyes were scanning the wood for any signs of movement, and for any who bothered to observe, it had been hours now of Cas just sitting there, waiting in silence.

"Cas, you alright?" Sam was walking down the hall, his footsteps heavy and his face drawn. This was his first excursion from his room today - Jess was absent from his side, and Cas could hear muffled crying from several doors down.

"Not really." Cas hugged his knees to his chest and stared ahead, pretending to be mesmerized by the way the wood swirled into itself so Sam wouldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. "Dean isn't talking to me."

"He's not talking to anyone, for that matter." Sam frowned, pausing in front of Dean's door. He stood there, as if trying to think of something else to say. Finally, he continued: "Try not to take it personally."

"How is Jess faring?" Cas distracted himself from the issue at hand, preferring Sam's problems over his own. It was so much easier to deal with other people's problems, no matter how much they felt you were 'bothered' by them. The more difficult task was to challenge your own.

"About as well as you'd expect." Sam glanced back down the hall from where he had just come, tears shining in his hazel eyes. He wiped them away as though Cas hadn't seen. "She's not going to come out for a while."

"Neither is Dean." Cas waited a moment, feeling the sadness overwhelm him. He took a deep sigh, one that racked every inch of his body, and Sam chose then to sit down beside him. The two of them rested their heads against the wall, their eyes set in two different directions – one toward Dean's door and the other toward Jess' – as they waited together in some state that vaguely resembled patience.

The next day, Cas stumbled out of his room before dawn and went straight to the bunker door. He hadn't fallen asleep, naturally, and had been led out of his room by the distant sound of groans coming closer. He was concerned that walkers had broken down the fences, but when he got up to the door, Garth was there with one of the piglets in his arms.

"Heya Cas!" Garth smiled, tipping his oversized straw hat with his free hand. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I thought I heard..." Cas froze and set the side of his face against the bunker door, listening. He heard faint growls that were growing steadily closer. "I think the fence broke overnight. That herd from Wichita that trapped Charlie and the others is due any day now."

"I was just about to bring this little guy outside for some fresh air." Garth frowned. "He's not doing so well... and he's one of the last pigs we have. I'm not sure he'll make it unless we can take him outside..."

"Let me go out first." Cas insisted, beginning to unlock the door. His trenchcoat wasn't fastened properly around his waist – it hung loosely around his knees and made it difficult for him to move forward. "I'll check the area."

"What's going on?" Katharine yawned, her robes falling loosely around her pregnant stomach as she climbed up the last few steps. She was wearing these bright pink bunny slippers that Anaise had lent her, and they made her footsteps quiet. "Is everything okay?"

"Probably." Cas twisted the handle and readied himself to open the door. "Just go back to bed. Garth, do you have a gun with you?"

"Just this." Garth, with a smug look on his face, grabbed a massive assault rifle that had been leaning against the wall. "It's not really mine, but since no one's been on guard duty..."

"It's fine." Cas let the angel blade slip down into his sleeve. "Katharine, can you please go back to your room?"

"Fine," she huffed indignantly, her shoulders slumped as she turned away. She was about halfway down the stairs, her slippers soft against the stone, when Cas twisted the handle and opened the door. Almost immediately, half a dozen walkers flooded in and the stench of rotting corpses filling the air.

The next minute was a blur – Cas took a second too long to engage his angel blade into his hand and one of the walkers tried to snap at him. He barely managed to end it before he was harmed. Garth began backing up toward the staircase, his rifle shooting dozens of rounds into the walkers as they increased in number. Cas tried to stay near the door, his heart racing as he stabbed walker after walker. More kept flooding in, and Katharine was screaming from the halfway point down the stairs as Garth kept stepping down toward her, his rifle still shooting.

Cas shoved his whole weight against the door, his shoes slipping on the ground as he tried to push it against the flood of walkers. There were too many to fight against at this rate, and the only way to stop them from flowing in was to shut the door, but he couldn't do it by himself. There was pounding on the stairs, and suddenly, without warning, Sam was by his side, his arms straining as he tried to help with the door.

Garth was still on the stairs, shouting to Katharine, who had slipped and fallen about four steps. She was lying on the cement area where the stairs turned to go down, struggling to stand. More walkers flooded in, and Cas heard screams from the main room. Sam was shouting something and the moans of walkers were deafening. Overwhelmed, Cas spun around to attempt to clear the area of walkers while Sam pushed the door, only to see Garth being backed up against the railings by the herd, his gun out of ammo.

"Garth, look out!" Cas shouted, plunging his angel blade into the head of a nearby walker. Garth was pinned against the railings, using the butt of his gun to smash in heads while he had a chance. Katharine was at the base of the stairs now, still recovering from her fall, and was screaming for Garth.

Cas felt himself grow dizzy with the intensity of it all, the screaming and stench of death too much to bear. He felt a walker brush by him roughly, its body heavy. He felt faint and disoriented, the stairs to one side of him and Sam with the door to the other. He collapsed under the weight of the dead as they piled in over him, their bodies writhing and teeth clacking. He thought of Dean as he lay there, surrounded and death inevitable as his head hit the ground and his vision faded to black.


	23. Chapter 23: The Enemy

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Enemy

The Impala's engines were a distant muttering of sound as Cas came to, his head resting on Dean's lap and his trench coat carefully buttoned. It had been loose around him earlier – someone had taken the time to lovingly fastened each button, and he had no doubt in his mind as to who it was. There was something on his head – it was white, and Dean was pressing it against him. A bandage? Cas blinked and tried to stay still. He could see Sam in the front seat with Jess, who looked like she was about to burst into tears any minute. Why were they in the Impala? Why were Jess and Dean out of their rooms? The only thing Cas was sure of was the feeling of Dean next to him and the fact that it was nighttime – Cas couldn't distinguish anything past the car windows besides the bright crescent of the moon dangling from a star studded sky.

"Cas, hey." Dean released some of the pressure off of the bandage and helped Cas to sit himself upright. Bon Jovi was playing faintly on the radio, barely audible over the sound of Jess trying not to sob and failing. "Take it easy – you went through some shit earlier."

"H-How... how am I alive?" Cas murmured, wincing as his head began pulsing with pain. Were they going to a hospital or something? If so, why was Jess with them? "And Garth, Katharine – are they... what happened?"

"You got trapped beneath the walkers while I was trying to close the door, but the one just on top of you was shot by one of Garth's last bullets. It shielded you from the other walkers, both with its body and smell." Sam replied from the front seat, casting a wary glance at Jess. She was crying through her hands, shaking uncontrollably.

"I woke up and was there in time to get Katharine out, but she's not looking so good. Anaise says she thinks that Katharine will lose the baby." Jess mumbled, her voice hardly above a whisper as it cracked and broke through the tears.

"Garth... Garth didn't make it." Dean's eyes were rimmed in tears that trickled slowly and unashamedly down his cheeks. He stared out of his window for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. When he spoke next, he sounded more miserable than Jess. "He got pinned trying to save you and Katharine at once."

Cas sat there in shocked silence for a moment, noticing the straw hat that Garth always wore set up in front of the Impala's back window. Why had they kept it? Where were they going? He tilted his head, leaning it against Dean's waiting shoulder. Now wasn't the time for such questions.

"W-What happened?" he stammered, trying to relax his tense shoulders as Dean laid his arm across the back of the seat. Dean was still looking out the window, trying to distract himself with the darkness.

"Someone rammed down the fence we had made with this massive truck just as the herd was passing through earlier this morning." Sam shook his head and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "We haven't figured out who it was yet, but when we do-"

"Sam, watch out!"

Sam swerved the Impala and it skidded for a moment, its tires screeching against gravel as it slid to the side of the road. Everyone braced themselves for an impact, but there wasn't one – Sam managed to straighten the vehicle out and stop it just off the road, casting worried looks at his passengers right after. Cas craned his neck to see outside of the car for what had been in the way, but it was too dark.

What happened next was so unexpected that it was worthy of inciting fear in all four passengers. A man emerged from the shadows of the road and strode up to Sam's window, rapping repeatedly on the glass until it was rolled down. He glanced around the car, sizing up the passengers, and then stared back at Sam. His voice was withery and old for someone so young.

"Lead us back to where you guys are holed up, give us half your stuff, and no one gets hurt."

There was a tense silence that settled over everyone inside of the Impala before Dean spoke. "Why would we do that?" Dean narrowed his eyes and put his arm around Cas protectively.

"Because otherwise, all four of you will be shot and killed, and when we find your base – and trust me, we will – we'll kill all your friends and take your stuff anyway." The man had a sick smile on his face as he tapped the Impala's steering wheel with the barrel of his gun.

"Logan, hold up." Another man came out of nowhere and marched up to Sam's window. He peered in, eyes glittering. "Aren't these the guys who killed Devin?"

"Shit." The first man scratched his head and grinned. They sure are." He tapped the steering wheel again with the gun, motioning toward Sam. "Get out. I'm driving."

"What the hell?" Sam turned to glance at Dean, who just nodded in defeat.

"Do what he says, Sammy." Dean pulled Cas closer, glancing away. "Please. Just come sit here next to Cas."

"Sam?" Jess whimpered as Sam moved from his seat, roughly edged past Logan, and took a seat next to Cas in the back. Once he had buckled himself in, Logan was already behind the wheel and it was clearly taking every ounce of strength Jess had within her not to begin crying again. Sam just held a finger to his lips, not daring to reach for her hand, and gave the man directions on how to get back home.

Once they had arrived back at the bunker and the Impala was badly parked in the driveway next to Bobby's truck, Logan instructed Dean to call everyone inside out onto the grassy area within the now partially fenced in area. The fences themselves were barely repaired, but standing in most places – there didn't appear to be any walkers nearby to worry about, anyway. Cas, Sam, and Jess all stood under the the guard of Logan, who refused to engage in any topics of discussion besides what his name was and who he worked for. The name Negan came up multiple times, but Cas disregarded it, hoping they were tangling with a different group.

As one minute stretched into twenty, trucks began rumbling up the driveway. When they were all parked, Cas counted five in total. Men were riding in the backs of them, guns strung across their leather jackets as they leaped out onto the grass. Everyone was talking amongst themselves excitedly, casting eager glances at Cas and his friends. Dean had gathered everyone outside by this point who wasn't already – there was no one who didn't look out of their wits with terror.

"Here's how it's going to go." Logan waved his gun in the air and cocked a bullet into place. "We're going to kill one of you, then take half of your stuff. Sound fair? Good."

"Wait, you can't!" Dean stepped forward, his hand held out in an unconscious effort to protect Sam and Cas. The rest of the group stood behind him, shivering in the cold night air. "You said if we listened, no one gets hurt, and we did. You can half like you said, but please – don't kill anyone."

"It's not like that, kid." Logan shrugged halfheartedly and aimed his gun toward Dean's good shoulder. "It isn't up to me – it's part of the code and you've broken it. If you're going to work with us, then you live by our rules, and our rules say that if you kill, you get punished. Devin's dead because of you, and we have to get our revenge."

"Take everything." Dean pleaded, on the verge of tears. He glanced back to make sure Sam and Cas were behind him before taking another step forward. "Take the bunker, the cars, whatever you want!"

"Don't make it two." The man narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Negan will be here in a minute. In the meantime, I'll need you to kneel. Negan likes it when you guys are in a circle around him – it makes his little speeches easier."

"Who the hell is Negan?" Dean spat, anger forming where sadness just was. He kept standing a second too long., and Logan brought his gun down hard on Dean's shoulder. After a moment of wavering in pain, Dean finally kneeled, much to the delight of Logan and the others. The people from the trucks were gathering around Cas and the others now, whistling some strange tune that only had two notes. It sounded eerie in the night air, echoing around the terrified group.

"Oh, kid." The man grinned. "You're about to find out."


	24. Chapter 24: The Game

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Game

"Dean, stay still. Do what they say."

"You heard him – they're going to kill somebody! I can't just... just kneel here and watch!"

"Keep it down. Please. I can't have it be you."

"Cas..."

It was around midnight, judging from the position of the moon in the sky. Clouds were beginning to mask all that was beautiful, suffocating the light from every star. The men from the trucks had been gathering around in a circle, whistling two notes in unison. It was eerie, the way it echoed around the circle. Dean was kneeling beside Cas, whose trenchcoat was splayed around him in the grass. Sam was across the circle with Jess next to him and Charlie beside her. From Charlie it was Bobby, Tyler, Anaise, and Katherine, who was next to Cas. From Dean's left it was Alex, Claire, Mandy, and Lacey.

"Now, we're going to give you all one chance to join us." Logan came into the center of the circle, the gun he had slammed Dean's shoulder with still in his hand. "Before Negan gets here... and he'll be here pretty soon. Any takers?"

There was a brief pause of silence over the group before Tyler piped up, his voice shaking.

"How would we do that?"

Anaise shot him a glare, but Logan looked plesed. He squinted toward Tyler, as though sizing him up.

"I'll show you." Logan grinned, his gaze averting to the circle surrounding the hunters. "Who are we?" he shouted, and the whistling, which had been strong and unbroken to this point, came to a swift end. The crowd waited a moment, then cried back, "We are Negan!"

"Wait." Dean shook his head in disbelief. Cas nudged him, narrowing his eyes. It was best to stay silent, but Dean seemed unaware. "Negan... Negan isn't a real person?"

"We are Negan." Logan patted his chest proudly. "We are part of him. That's all we had to do to be incorporated into his group. We're the Saviors. All you have to do is say it, and you can be one of us too."

"I am Negan." Tyler scrambled into the center of the circle with no hesitation, staying on his knees before Logan. He clasped his hands together and sat there pleadingly. "Please, take me with you. I am Negan."

"Well, damn." Logan chuckled. "A convert so soon?" He held out a hand to Tyler, who eagerly took it. Anaise stared straight ahead, her jaw set, and Charlie was visibly upset. "Anyone else?"

There was silence amid the circle, and Logan laughed again, his voice hoarse and hollow. "Alright, kid. Get on over with the others." He watched Tyler get to the edge of the circle and blend into the crowd.

A reverend silence fell across both groups as a car suddenly roared in the distance, speeding down the street adjacent to the bunker before swerving wildly into the drive. It was a blood red Mustang, tires black as ebony and windshields tinted to conceal its driver. Dean shot Cas a worried look,

It took another moment for him to step out – his leather jacket was crooked, buttoned tight around his waist as he dragged a strange object behind him in the gravel. The car door slammed and out he walked, his combat boots heavy on the grass as he came.

"Hey, kids." The man strode right beside Cas into the center of the circle, where the light was at its brightest and he was fully visible. He was a tall man with broad shoulders hidden under a boxy, creased leather jacket. In his right hand was a wooden baseball bat, barbed wire tightly wound around it. "Sorry to be late to the party. I'm Negan, and tickled as shit to meet you." He took a slight bow, and Logan left the circle at that cue.

"Everyone's Negan, apparently." Cas narrowed his eyes, and Negan stared straight at him, tapping the tip of his bat against the grass.

"True, but they're all part of me." Negan grinned, tilting his head to the side. "They aren't John, or Adam, or Michael – they're Negan. I'm their king. They're... they're like my little shitfest of a kingdom."

"Negan." Logan called from where he now stood, just behind Charlie. "This is the group that killed Devin."

"Well, shit!" Negan threw his head back and laughed. "Does this mean what I think it means? Hell, we were just going to take some of your shit and make it our shit, but if you're the bitches that took Devin out – I've got a bone to pick with you!"

"It's not like that." Dean was shaking now, fear radiating off of him "He... he killed our friend, Jo."

"Was that grounds to kill HIM?" Negan shook his head, tapping his bat in disapproval. "I think not! Are you trying to make excuses for your behavior?"

"If it saves one of us from being killed, yes." Dean spat, his eyes trained on the ground.

"I don't think it's a good idea to talk back to me." Negan turned to face Dean, walking a step too close for comfort. "See, because shit happens to people who don't listen. I'm going to ask you once, and I won't ask it politely again. You are not allowed to talk unless instructed to, and you are not allowed to react to anything I do with any kind of outward emotion or I'll bash your head in. Got it?"

Dean gave a cursory nod, and Negan stepped closer to him, pointing the bat in his face.

"Speak when spoken to, you little shit." He hissed. Dean began to nod again and then interrupted himself, gasping out a yes before Negan strode back to the center of the circle.

"I feel like the lesson here hasn't quite been learned." Negan glanced around the circle, doing a little spin to take in everybody there. "So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to kill one of you now, and I already know who, because of some awesome divine intervention, BUT guessing games are much more fun."

"Please." Dean whispered, terrified. Cas could practically taste the fear from his friends as it hovered in the air, emphasized in teary eyes, shaking hands, and sweaty foreheads.

"Was that-" Negan paused, placing a hand to his ear in a sarcastic fashion. He balanced the bat on the ground, both hands gripping it firmly. "Is someone stepping out of line again?"

Dean shook his head, his face flushed. Negan turned back to face the other side of the circle, his face smug. Cas took a deep breath of relief, nudging Dean until he looked over.

"Dean, stay still. Do what they say."

"You heard him – they're going to kill somebody! I can't just... just kneel here and watch!"

"Keep it down. Please. I can't have it be you."

"Cas..."

"So then." Charismatic as ever, Negan propped the bat up on his shoulder and cocked his head to the side. "I'm kind of new to this whole 'badass bad guy' thing but I've done this gig a couple of times before. Shit is about to go DOWN!"

Everyone was quiet. Dean was shaking so hard and his breathing was so ragged, Cas feared he was about to lapse into some sort of panicked state. He could see Charlie, her face completely drained of color as she stood there, her hands clenched into fists. Sam was watching Negan, his eyes full of guilt. He glanced at Jess, who was trying to cry as silently as she could. Bobby was leaned forward, his face in his hands and his cap lying on the grass beneath him. Mandy and Lacey were grasping at each other's hands like they were lifelines, and Katharine was staring blankly at the ground, as though she was going to be sick. Anaise's face was red, both with anger at Tyler for leaving her, and with herself for not following. Alex and Claire looked nauseous, Alex moreso – Claire was attempting to put on a façade of bravery, but the spastic shaking in her shoulders suggested otherwise.

"You all seem like swell people." Negan gazed around the circle coyly, slipping the bat back into his hands. "I hate to kill one of you, but it's gotta be done. Like I said, I already know who it's gonna be, but it wouldn't be any fun if there wasn't a shitload of suspense involved. So-"

Negan took a little bow and then stood upright, straightening his shoulders. He held the tip of his wire-covered bat out to Dean's face and smiled.

"Eenie."

"Meenie." This time it was Cas, who tried to find Dean's hand in the darkness and failed.

"Minie." Bobby. Negan was picking random people now, all over the circle without direction.

"Moe." Katharine's eyes began to tear up, and she leaned away from the bat instinctively.

"Catch." This time it was Sam. Dean gave a little cry, which earned him a glare from Negan, and he quickly sobered up.

"A tiger." Charlie took a sharp breath, turning her face away from Negan.

"By the toe." Claire's bottom lip was quivering and she looked like she was going to cry.

"If he hollers." Alex was clasping her hands together, her eyes gazing at Negan pleadingly.

"Let him go." Mandy interlaced her fingers with Lacey's, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Eenie." Lacey looked up bravely, but her face was swollen from crying.

"Meenie." Anaise glanced down, her hands clenched into fists.

"Minie." Sam stared straight across the circle at Dean, his hand over his heart.

"Moe." Dean froze. There was a pause, a gasp of breath from Cas as Negan held his bat in Dean's face, inches away from the canvas of freckles that Cas knew and loved.

"An angel..." Negan pointed it back at Cas, who took a sigh of relief.

"Told." Bobby's hands were shaking uselessly by his side.

"Me." Katharine was leaned over, her hands pressed against her stomach.

"To." Mandy was sobbing now, rocking back and forth on her knees.

"Pick." Lacey turned toward Mandy, trying to meet her gaze.

"The." Anaise had to bury her hands in her pockets to stop herself from lashing out.

"Very." Jess wilted away from the bat, her eyes wide with fear.

"Best." Sam held his head high, still staring at Dean.

"One." Charlie covered her face with her hands, beginning to cry.

"And you." Alex was trembling, her eyes closed.

"Are." Claire let out a little cry, turning her face away.

"It."


	25. Graphic Warning - Chapter 25: The Pain

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Pain

The initial shock of it all wasn't the worst. Seeing that barbed bat smash down against Sam's head while he mouthed some unreadable sentence to Dean and Cas wasn't the most terrible, either. It was watching Negan slam the bat again and again and again until nothing was left except blood and disgusting, indescribable pieces of Sam that would never be able to be reassembled.

When the first swing had met with Sam, Dean lunged forward, reaching for Negan. Cas only realized what was happening moments before it was too late. He had to physically restrain Dean in order to prevent further trouble. They had been told not to move or show emotion – it was what had to be done if no one else was to die.

After the second swing, Charlie let out a scream, but Logan tapped the back of her head with his gun and she quickly silenced herself. She sat there, her head in her hands as her shoulders racked back and forth with sobs.

During the third, Jess nearly fainted in shock as Sam's blood splattered again across her nightgown, drenching it in red. She had been right next to him – whatever hadn't been strewn across the bloodied grass was on her and Lacey, who was on the other side of Sam.

On the fourth blow, Dean finally spoke. He looked like he was suffocating as he struggled relentlessly to get free of Cas. He was gasping for every weak, barely audible breath, but Cas couldn't let him go, for fear he would be killed as well. "Cas..."

Cas waited until the fifth blow to reply, hoping that it would cover up the sound of them talking. He was so overwhelmed with emotion that he was still kneeling there trying to sort through them all as he held Dean tightly in his arms. Sadness evidently prevailed as he stayed there with dumbfounded misery spreading throughout his body, causing his limbs to fall uselessly at his side. "Shh, Dean. I can't have it be you..."

They were six swings in when Dean replied. "Can you bring him back?" He was crying, trying to hold his misery back with little success. He bent over on the grass, shaking with some mixture of frustration and fear. He reached for Cas' hand, finding only the angel's oversized sleeve. "Please..."

Was it the seventh now? Cas had lost track... "I used the last of my power to bring Jess home." Cas whispered, shifting his sleeve higher up his shoulder so that Dean could more easily find his hand. "I'm... I'm so sorry, Dean. There's nothing we can-"

"Alright." Negan straightened his shoulders and flicked the bat slightly, blood trickling down and staining the wood. "Is it safe to say all of you have learned your lesson?" Everyone gave hushed, cursory nods, followed by Negan crossing his arms in disapproval.

"SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO!" He shouted, and this was met with the appropriate response. Dean didn't say anything, his eyes trained on Sam's body, but gratefully, Negan didn't notice. It took a minute or so of silence in the clearing for the Saviors to begin filing out, taking Tyler with them as they left. Charlie, Bobby, and the rest of them were all in too much shock to do anything other than stay still, trying to pace their breathing.

"You killed my brother." Dean cried out suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he stared up at Negan's back. The latter had already begun to leave the circle, dragging his bloodstained bat behind them. Charlie looked up in panic, and Bobby began shaking his head in surprise. Cas squeezed Dean's hand, concern replacing the place in his heart where there had once been sadness.

Negan flipped the bat onto his shoulder and shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me, kid. Like I said, shit's gotta be done, and-"

"You killed my BROTHER." Dean repeated, struggling to get up off of the grass and stand to face Negan. Cas kept tugging at his sleeve, trying to convince him to stay kneeling, but his attempts were futile. The Saviors were all turned around now, amusement across their faces as they watched.

"Is that so?" Negan smiled, getting down on one knee so he could face Dean properly. He leaned one arm on his bat, the other on his leg. Dean's eyes were smoldering with rage, an anger that encompassed the deaths of all they had lost. Meg, Kevin, Ellen, Ron, Jo, Garth... Sam.

"You killed my-" Dean began, but Negan quickly cut him off, his eyes narrowed.

"Your brother, I get it." Negan swung his bat off of his shoulder and pointed it at Dean. "Would you like a taste of the same shit?"

"Please." Cas moved in front of Dean, instinctively holding out an arm to protect him. There was a collective awe that spread its way around the circle of broken people, all wishing that they could do the same, but were too shocked to react with any action other than crying. "He's just in shock, he doesn't mean what he's saying."

Before Negan could get a word in, Jess cried out from across the circle, her eyes wide and her face swollen with tears. "Negan didn't kill your brother. It's all my fault."

"How is this possibly your fault?" Charlie stammered brokenly, her hands clasped together in her lap and her head bent over so no one could see her crying.

"He bargained his life for me to return." Jess sobbed, her hands shaking as she put them over her mouth. "I'm so sorry... he... he said that the angels or whoever he was talking to, they promised him time with me and he said it was fine and... I didn't know it was going to be like this or I would've asked him to send me back...Dean, I-I I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I swear I didn't know, I swear..." She was breathing irregularly, her chest rising and falling at a pace much too rapid.

"This shit just got interesting." Negan grinned, leaning toward Dean as he stood and brandished his bat with pride. "I've already done what I came to do – I don't need to kill anyone else unless you people step out of line. Don't talk to me like that again, you understand?"

Cas was hoping – even praying, at a time like this – that Dean would yes and Negan would walk away. They would never have to deal with the Saviors again except for monthly exchanges of material things. It was going to be okay, he told himself. He kept saying it inside his head, over and over again, until Dean stood up, squared his shoulders, and screamed, "YOU KILLED MY BROTHER, SHITHEAD!" before punching Negan in the jaw.

There was a solid moment of everyone staring at the scene in shock. Even the Saviors looked surprised. Cas scrambled to his feet and stepped between Negan and Dean, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. "I'm so, so sorry." He apologized, nudging Dean back toward the outskirts of the circle. "He doesn't understand what he's saying, he... he-"

"People like this..." Negan grabbed Dean's shoulder, disinterested when the latter wrenched it away roughly. "People like this can't be taught. They need to be broken first. Logan, get the truck ready. We'll take him back to base camp."

"No, please!" Cas cried, moving back between an already broken Dean and Negan. "Please, take me instead. He just needs time to adjust to your rules here – I can go instead of him if you let me. Leave him here to mourn his brother, PLEASE."

Negan paused a moment, mulling over his options. He looked at Cas, then Dean, then Cas again.

"You've got yourself a deal." Negan smiled. "But trust me kid – you're gonna be wishing you'd left this guy behind and never looked back."

It was dark inside the truck. From what Cas could tell, it smelled like sweat and liquor. He drew his knees up against his chest, his trenchcoat the only warmth in the vehicle. Heaters couldn't be expected to work during the apocalypse, so he didn't blame the Saviors for _that_ inconvenience. Logan was driving, and there were three other men seated up front.

Cas would have been alone with Negan's other prisoner in the backseat if it were not for Tyler sitting beside him on the right, pointing a loaded pistol at his head. Jess was next to Cas, binds tied around her wrists as she leaned back against the seat in a tired sort of shock. Her eyes trained on the blood that stained her nightgown, and her golden curls were drenched in the same. Negan had insisted on taking her as well, and no one else in the circle had argued. Jess had walked to the truck with little hesitation, which Cas was grateful for. If only Dean had the same amount of restraint...

Cas faded in and out of consciousness, the wound on his head still bleeding from earlier. After the shock of Sam's death had worn off, the pain was quick to return. He could still feel Dean's arm around him before Negan wrenched them apart, the warmth of Dean's shaking body and the saltiness of falling tears still fresh in Cas' senses. He hoped that it would stay that way for a long while until it inevitably faded, as all memories do.

Cas had cried out to Dean when he was led away, telling him to stay out of trouble and that they would see each other again. Dean had stood there silently in the grass until the moment Cas was ushered into the truck, his eyes cast downward and tears streaming down his cheeks. Then, suddenly, he had called out, "I love you." It was a moment too late on Dean's part - the door to the truck was slammed shut, and Cas was left there behind the tinted windows, forever unable to say it back.


	26. Chapter 26: I Love You

_"_ _When the night has come… and the land is dark… and the moon is the only light we'll see."_

Cas jolted awake as the music blasted through his cell door, at the same volume and time it did every morning and night. It was pitch black in his room – though his eyes were open, he could see nothing.

 _"_ _No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid… just as long as you stand, stand by me…"_

Cas could feel the tears welling in his eyes, and he slumped lower against the concrete wall, head buried in his hands. The cold serving of food lay next to him on the ground. He never ate it – the guards didn't seem to understand he was unable to truly savor or digest it – but it smelled absolutely vile and congested every one of his five senses.

 _"_ _If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall… and the mountains should crumble into the sea…"_

Cas blinked again and again, trying to coerce the tears to leave him, but still they persisted, falling down his cheeks one after the other.

 _"_ _I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear… just as long as you stand, stand by me…"_

Cas took a deep, shuddering breath and straightened himself just slightly, so that he could lean his head back against the wall and close his eyes for a moment. It made him remember the time when he had sat there in the car with his head against the window, pretending to be asleep so that Dean would keep singing. He did this often, remembering how certain moments in his time with Dean had felt. Sometimes it cheered him up, sometimes it made him more miserable… but at least it was something.

As the song kept playing, he kept trying to recall each memory, knowing that someday soon, they would fade away and he would be left with nothing. Their first "duet" came to mind, if you could call an impromptu symphony of awkward, gravelly, and uncomfortable voices that. If he opened his eyes, he pretended he could see the shadow of Dean standing in the doorway to his room, sheepishly and sweetly asking if they could be together.

When he closed them again, he recalled how he and Dean had stood there, peaceful as they sang together and leaned into the other's embrace, slowly rocking back and forth in the hall. If he imagined hard enough, he could still live in dizzied days of daydreaming quietly on the roof, watching the clouds with Dean and singing their song. Their voices would join together in a melody that wasn't quite perfect to anyone except them, but it didn't need to be.

He had once thought, _"If only life could be a series of remembering such sweet, perfect moments, savoring them in your mind and looking back with vivid fondness."_ Fondness and melancholy were practically interchangeable, at this rate. As the song ended and then began to loop again, he remembered another moment, a conversation in a dimly lit hallway that ended in a dance to music that was only imagined by the two of them.

 _"_ _We're going to trust one another, okay?"_

 _"_ _I can't. I'm broken, Cas. No one can love me."_

 _"_ _See Dean, that's not true because I do love you. I'm broken too."_

 _"_ _We're a mess."_

 _"_ _I love you, Dean. We can be broken together."_

 _"_ _Okay, Cas. T-Thank you… for everything. I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier, b-but… I love you too."_

From there he remembered more of them, the music lulling him back to sleep through his tears. The words were still fresh in his mind, the raspiness of Dean's voice as he said them still music to his ears. For the rest of the night that he was awake, he tried to bring to mind the different conversations he had with Dean over the last few months, so that maybe, he would never forget them.

 _"_ _There's something I need to tell you."_

 _"_ _Okay."_

 _"_ _I just wanted to say… I have to tell you something."_

 _"_ _What is it?"_

 _"_ _I love you."_

 _"_ _In a brotherly way, of course."_

 _"_ _No. You-you don't understand. I love you. Like really, really love you."_

 _"_ _You said this, just last month."_

 _"_ _I said it wrong, it didn't… it didn't…"_

 _"_ _We can talk about it in the morning."_

 _"_ _Can we- can we talk about earlier?"_

 _"_ _We already tried that. You see how that turned out?"_

 _"_ _I wouldn't mind it turning out the same way…"_

 _"…_ _what did you say?"_

 _"_ _I said… never mind..."_

 _"_ _Just tell me."_

 _"_ _I said I wouldn't mind it turning out the same way either."_

 _"_ _I just wanted to talk."_

 _"_ _About?"_

 _"_ _Us."_

 _"_ _Us? What about… us?"_

 _"_ _Is there or isn't there?"_

 _"_ _Do you want there to be?"_

 _"_ _I mean… I-we… we can't be doing this THING, where we just randomly make out or dance in the kitchen together or… it just needs to be all or nothing."_

 _"_ _I'd be okay with that. Would you?"_

 _"_ _Yes. I really would."_

 _"_ _Do you love me?"_

 _"_ _Of course."_

 _"_ _There are things… things I want to say to you. Things I want to do with you. I'm not sure there's time anymore. After Kevin… Meg… we are so close to death, every minute of every day. We could die right now, we could die tomorrow. I want to spend a lifetime with you, as long of an eternity as I can manage, but it's impossible. I don't even know where to start, if I could."_

 _"_ _You can start now. Don't waste the time we have together, on this day, in this month, in this year. It may be numbered, but it's no less perfect."_

 _"_ _I love you, Cas."_

 _"_ _I love you, Dean."_

It was dark and Cas was crying out to Dean as Logan dragged him along roughly, letting his trenchcoat be stained by the ground beneath them. Cas knew he didn't have much time, and he was trying to say as much as he could in the thirty seconds it would take for him to be taken into one of the trucks.

"It's going to be okay Dean, I promise. I… I… we'll see each other again! Stay out of trouble… please don't hate me for this… it's going to be okay. It will be. Not right now, not in a couple days, or weeks, or months… maybe even years. I will find you. _I will find you._ I prom-."

The truck door slammed and Logan locked it, pulling once on the handle to make sure it was closed. Cas started beating on the tinted windows with his fists, barely able to make out the shape of Dean still standing there in the near distance. When Logan got into the front seat and the door was open for that fraction of a second, Cas could hear what Dean was saying. It was loud and bold and clear in the night air that was so muddled with doubt and fear. As much as he wanted to, the door was shut and Cas was left alone in the backseat, the realization setting in that he would never be able to say it back. Dean's last words to him still echoed in his mind, and he tried to hold on to them in that moment so that he would never forget.

 _"_ _I love you."_

THE END


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